


Apathy

by HickoryDaisy



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa Another Episode: Ultra Despair Girls, Dangan Ronpa Zero, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angie Yonaga as the Ultimate Sculptor, Canon-Typical Violence, Digital Art, Even Chapters are Re-Writes, F/F, Gen, I thought "Artist" was too broad, M/M, Nagito's Killing School Life, Odd Chapters are Short Stories, Tags Added as Chapters Go Up, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop, VA-Based Class Swap, dr0 spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:55:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25471228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HickoryDaisy/pseuds/HickoryDaisy
Summary: Live. Die. Repeat.Life. Death. Friendship.Live. Die. Repeat.
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede & Ishimaru Kiyotaka, Akamatsu Kaede & Ishimaru Kiyotaka & The Ultimate Imposter, Akamatsu Kaede & The Ultimate Imposter, Enoshima Junko & Saihara Shuichi, Fujisaki Chihiro & Komaeda Nagito, Fukawa Touko/Naegi Komaru, Ikusaba Mukuro & Naegi Makoto, Ikusaba Mukuro & Togami Byakuya, Ishimaru Kiyotaka & The Ultimate Imposter, Maizono Sayaka & Naegi Makoto, Naegi Makoto/Togami Byakuya
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86
Collections: Time Travel and World Travel





	1. Sayaka's Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

> So... this will eventually (hopefully) include the casts of all the games, but... my favorite characters are mostly from THH, so this is mostly THH. Fight me.
> 
> I do have plans for... many things... but I'm not going to tell you what they are yet, and that's why there aren't many tags on the work yet! You'll see what I'm doing later, I promise!

Sayaka Maizono shuddered as she awoke. What…? What was going on? This didn’t seem right…

She was slumped over in a classroom, one of the ones in Hope’s Peak. She recognized it, right down to the metal plates bolted over the windows.

Wait - !

That’s why everything felt so wrong! She hadn’t fallen asleep, then awakened here! She’d _died_.

And yet, she somehow didn’t appear to be dead? She certainly had no trouble getting out of her seat and walking over to the metal-plated windows. A simple touch confirmed that they were quite real. The cold metal made her fingers tingle.

Glancing around to make sure she was truly alone, Sayaka hooked her fingers under the hem of her shirt and lifted it up. How odd. Sayaka clearly remembered being stabbed to death, and yet she appeared to not be dead, and there wasn’t any sign of her fatal injury, either…

She smoothed her shirt back down and plastered on her photobook smile once more. Perhaps there was something she was missing about this situation? It was truly odd, but no-one got famous without being at least a little adaptable. Whatever was going on, she’d make it work. Somehow.

Another glance around the room drew her eyes towards the clock. Huh? 7:45? Wasn’t that about when she had woken up before meeting her classmates three days ago?

Wait.

Was that it?

Was that what had happened?

It didn’t sound possible, but if Sayaka was asked, she would say the same thing about being locked in a school and forced to murder in order to leave. So, really, it seemed like it was certainly a possibility, and one that she couldn’t discount.

With that possibility in mind, Sayaka stepped out of the classroom, making a beeline for the main hall. Sure enough, there were a few of her classmates clustered in there, looking quite confused. In this moment, she swore she could almost feel their confusion prickling at the back of her mind.

It was at times like these that she wondered if she really was physic.

So, she had gone back in time. Not very far, just back to when she had first been sealed in the school, but now she knew what she had to do.

She wasn’t going to let Leon get the upper hand this time. She had to get out of here, and Leon was the one she was willing to sacrifice to do it. Her bandmates… they needed her!

For the next twenty minutes, Sayaka mingled with her classmates, talking much but saying little. She wondered about her classmates in a way that she hadn’t the first time around. Now, before the game was announced, she had a chance to see them slightly less guarded.

But, once the oddity of the situation was factored in, they were still fairly guarded. Sayaka came away from almost every introduction with more questions than answers.

The exception was Hifumi’s introduction, which plainly informed her that she didn’t want to interact with this person anymore than she absolutely had too.

Finally, Makoto stumbled through the door, looking just as lost as everyone else. He really was a little bit of an odd duck, wasn’t he? So very soft. So very genuine.

She’d wanted to be his friend for a few years now. He was so genuine, somehow she could tell, even from across a crowded hallway, that he would never try to take advantage of her or her fame. People that genuine were hard to come by, so she’d have to be a fool to let Makoto slip away.

She’d tried to frame him for murder the night before, and she’d have to do it again three days from now.

It couldn’t be helped, really. She had to get out of here. While Makoto was certainly a good friend, she couldn’t put him above her band. She had to have priorities.

When Makoto wandered over to her to introduce himself, she cut in before he could get out a word, asking if he’d gone to Blackroot Junior High, and making certain they established that connection quickly.

When the conversation ended, they were both left smiling, but Sayaka’s smile was bittersweet. If circumstances were different, she’d have just made one of the best friends she could ever have. But as things were...

The next three days passed quickly, the same as they had before. Sayaka still accompanied Makoto to the display case and urged him to take the replica sword - he’d need to be able to defend himself after she graduated, after all.

Wait, no - it wasn’t exactly like before. Before, Makoto had spent more time with Celeste, hadn’t he? After he’d helped Sayaka calm down, he’d hung out with Celeste, or at least Sayaka had thought…

But this time around, after helping her calm down, Makoto had gone next door and dragged Toko out of her room to spend time together. And then later on, Sayaka had seen him interacting with Hiro, too…

It… probably didn’t mean anything. Right? Nothing was going to change because of that… right?

Right, right, when it was time for breakfast on the fourth day, Monokuma interrupted again and began his talk about motives. Same as before, Mondo delegated the task of investigating whatever Monokuma was talking about to Makoto. Same as before, Sayaka agreed to accompany Makoto.

And, same as before, they found the videos in the AV room.

Yes, who Makoto hung out with wasn’t impacting anything. She didn’t need to worry about it.

When they all watched their videos, Sayaka felt more than heard herself cry out when she saw her bandmates fall. Even the second time around, it was so awful to watch - ! She couldn’t imagine the horrors that might have been inflicted on her bandmates to leave them in such a state. Who could have committed such a travesty?

When all was said and done, what mattered was that she didn’t exactly need to fake her reaction, which was similar enough to the one she had last time. Again, Makoto promised to get her out of the school. 

Good. The stage was set for her plan to come to fruition tonight.

Once again, she faked panic, and once again, Makoto agreed to switch rooms with her. Once again, she went to the kitchen to fetch a knife, telling Hina and Sakura she only wanted a glass of water. Once again, she wrote Leon a letter saying she wanted to talk and slipped it under his door. Once again, she switched hers and Makoto’s nameplates.

She only had to make one change to Makoto’s room to ensure her success this time. Before, Leon had used Makoto’s replica sword to defend himself, so all she had to do was move it.

The desk was far enough away from the short little hallway/entryway. Leon wouldn’t be able to get to it there.

Her plan went off without a hitch. Leon breathed his last on Makoto’s floor, and Sayaka hurried to clean herself up as much as she could. It didn’t matter that much anyway - so long as the blame landed on Makoto, and she got to walk out of the school.

She rather hoped Makoto might follow her out, but she figured that such a genuine person as he was unlikely to commit murder. It was too bad, really. She would have liked to really be his friend.

Breakfast the next morning was… interesting. She wondered how it had gone last time, after she had died, but there was no way for her to know, anyway. People wondered where Leon was, of course, but Byakuya (the last one to arrive) hadn’t seen him, and no-one got a response when they rang his doorbell.

Well, they wouldn’t, but they didn’t know that.

No-one wanted to say that Leon had been killed, but the tension in the dining hall was… well, it was rather high. Still, no-one made a move to really go looking for him - they assumed (or perhaps hoped) that he was merely sleeping in.

After breakfast, she and Makoto had to trade room keys back. Sayaka tried to make the exchange serendipitously, but they were still in the dining hall. Hopefully, no-one would notice or think anything of it.

It was less than five minutes later that Makoto let out a horrific scream. When the rest of the class rushed to him, he was unconscious. He had fainted, presumably from the shock of finding a dead body in the middle of his bedroom floor.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sayaka wondered if Makoto had fainted with shock when he found her body, too.

DING DONG BING BONG.

After the class peered through the door to see Leon’s body, impaled and bloody, sprawled out over Makoto’s floor, a sickeningly normal-sounding chime rang out over the school’s broadcast system.

“A body has been discovered!”

What…? What was this?

“After a certain amount of time, which you may use however you like,”

What was this sick feeling of dread pooling in her stomach? Surely this was the end, right? Leon was dead, their classmates would think it was Makoto, and she would get to leave, right? Right?

“The class trial will begin!”

Class… trial?

After that horrifying announcement finished, Monokuma started a different announcement, this one advising that they make their way to the gym in order to receive further instructions. 

Time seemed to pass in a blur, for the next little while. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered that Sukura carried an unconscious Makoto to the gym, where they were told they had to wait until Makoto woke up.

The dread in the pit of her stomach built up into a churning, roiling sea of fear, becoming far too much for the slight-figured pop star to handle. She sat down on the bleachers next to Makoto.

She hoped he would forgive her when he realized what she’d done.

When Makoto did wake up, he was extremely upset. He kept demanding that he be allowed to go check, to go make sure it wasn’t a trick, because there was no way Leon could really be dead!

Sayaka was fairly certain that Makoto and Leon had barely talked since introducing themselves four - or was it five? - days prior.

The level of concern that Makoto had for someone he barely knew - ! He was truly a good person, wasn’t he? She’d never met someone so good before.

Guilt clawed at Sayaka’s stomach. It would all be okay, in the end. She’d make it out, and while Makoto would still be here, at least he’d still be alive. She hadn’t killed him.

Finally, Monokuma showed up, and Byakuya asked the question that they’d all been thinking. And Monokuma’s answer… it was so wrong. So, so wrong.

They didn’t have to just not be blamed. They had to get away with it through a whole trial, and if they didn’t, they’d be punished for their crime. With the death penalty.

And if they did get away with it, the others wouldn’t remain living in the school.

They’d all be killed.

Oh, god. They’d all be killed.

She hadn’t realized she’d be sacrificing _everyone_. She’d thought she was just sacrificing _Leon_. This was… horrific. Oh, god. What had she done?

What had she done?

What had she done to them all?

What had she done to _Makoto_?

She felt numb. Somewhere, somehow, she felt and heard the reactions of her fellow classmates, but they didn’t really register. She’d doomed them all. Even Makoto. 

But… 

But she had to endure. She couldn’t take back what she’d already done, she could only move forward. And now, it was them or her. She had to do this, for her bandmates. She had to make sure they were okay.

She wasn’t going to confess, it would literally be the death of her. But if they figured her out, then she wouldn’t do them the disservice of denying it for too long. That promise to herself gave her the strength to tune back into the discussion going on among her classmates - just in time for Junko to declare that she wasn’t going to participate and attack Monokuma.

Things went from bad to worse in a matter of seconds.

“To me, Spear of Gungnir!”

_Thunk splat, thunk splat_.

“Wh-what? This… wasn’t supposed to-”

Junko’s lifeless body fell to the floor in a heap.

Sayaka stared at the new corpse in stunned disbelief. What the-!

The class all recoiled at once, and Monokuma told them to let Junko’s death serve as a warning against disobeying the rules before popping out of the room.

The class began to disperse, heading off to begin their investigation. But before they could leave, Celeste made a point of pointing out where Leon’s body had been found.

Makoto’s kneejerk denial, brushed aside by their classmates who turned to leave, instigated a new swell of guilt inside of Sayaka.

But that denial was followed with eyes that widened in realization, and then pinned her with a look that brimmed with betrayal. Tears looked nearly ready to escape his eyes.

“Sayaka… how- How could you?”

She didn’t have an answer. She just turned away and walked out of the gym. She didn’t know how to explain the choice she’d made to him.

She went to her room. Where else would she go? Even if she knew how to investigate, why would she investigate a crime she committed? And besides… if there was to be a trial, she’d need to be far more composed than she was right now.

She ended up pacing back and forth in her room, vocalizing nonsense as she attempted to soothe her frayed nerves.

After some time had passed, there was a knock on her door. She opened it, fully expecting Makoto to be on the other side, and dreading it.

But it wasn’t Makoto.

“May I come in?” Kyoko asked, but considering that she was already striding inside, it was clear that the question was more of a courtesy than anything.

“I… don’t see why you can’t?” Sayaka said after a stunned moment. She didn’t know much about Kyoko, but it seemed like she was here on a mission.

She should probably be worried, but she truly was too tired, physically and emotionally, to muster up something as potentially tiring as worry at the moment.

She was exhausted. Committing murder required you to stay up so very late.

You had to stay up late to get the victim alone. Then you had to stay up even later in order to clean up after the crime! Sayaka had only gotten about three hours of sleep last night, but she couldn’t let that show.

It’d be awfully suspicious, after all.

Sayaka watched Kyoko do… something, but she didn’t really feel like she understood it, and she was too exhasuted to ask. Instead, she just sat on her bed and watched without seeing.

It wasn’t too long before Kyoko left again, giving only a simple “Goodbye,” as she strode away.

Soon after, someone else knocked on her door. This time, it really was Makoto.

“I want… I want to know how you could - how you could do this,” Makoto’s voice shook.

For a long minute, they just stared at each other, neither one doing or saying anything. Finally, Sayaka spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

And then she closed the door.

She wasn’t entirely sure how much time passed between that and when Monokuma announced the beginning of the trial, but she spent that time pacing, trying to gather herself together. She didn’t feel ready, but she didn’t think she’d ever feel ready for this.

The trial was… odd. Really odd. 

“Let’s start with a discussion of the murder weapon!” Monokuma chirped, far too cheerful for this occasion.

“Leon was stabbed in the chest, right?” Taka began the conversation. “There was still a knife sticking out of his chest, so that must be the murder weapon!”

“So the killer just took some random knife, and stabbed the guy?” Mondo asked.

“No, that’s wrong!” Makoto burst into the conversation. “That wasn’t just any knife. It was a kitchen knife. There’s one missing from the set in the kitchen.”

“Huh? A kitchen knife?” Mondo looked confused for a minute. “Well, yeah, that makes sense. If you look at the part that’s sticking out, it does look like one.”

“Does it really matter where the knife came from?” Hiro asked. “I mean, we all know Makoto did it, right?”

“That’s true…” Hifumi agreed. “The body of Mr. Kuwata was found in Mr. Naegi’s room!”

“In other words, you’re saying that Makoto is the only suspect that makes sense,” Byakuya sounded almost bored.

“No, that’s wrong!” Makoto broke in again. “Me and Sayaka switched rooms last night. She… told me she was scared, but now I wonder if that was really why she wanted to…”

“Really? Trying to shift blame to Sayaka? I thought the two of you were friends,” Celeste sounded dismissive and aloof as she attempted to lampoon Makoto’s argument.

“Makoto,” Sayaka steeled herself to put on a performance that could very well be her last, “Y-yesterday you said, you’d always be on my side! Wh-why?”

“Because everyone here is my friend, Sayaka!” Makoto began.

“I’m not,” Byakuya interjected.

“ _Almost_ everyone here is my friend!” Makoto amended. “And I can’t put you above all of them, no matter what you say!”

“You said you’d always be on my side!” Sayaka cried, careful not to say anything that was strictly untrue. The implication of her line was false, but that wasn’t the point.

“A-actually…” Surprisingly, it was Toko who spoke up. “I- I saw them exchange something, a-at breakfast th-this morning? I d-don’t know if it was their r-room keys, b-but… I-it’s p-possible M-Makoto’s not lying…”

Sayaka had to be careful not to let her surprise show. Someone had seen that? _Toko_ had seen that? She’d thought she’d been so careful… Damnit! She’d gotten careless!

“Indeed,” Kyoko nodded. “There is plenty of evidence to show that Makoto is telling the truth about switching rooms. Aside from Toko’s testimony, there are two more clues that clearly show that Makoto and Sayaka spent last night in each-other’s rooms.”

“Two more clues? How interesting,” Celeste said thoughtfully.

“One of them’s that thing you told me about, isn’t it?” Makoto asked, his anger still plainly written over his face. “The thing about the hair?”

“Exactly,” Kyoko nodded.

“Hair? What does hair have to do with anything?” Hina asked, perplexed.

“Kyoko looked at my room very closely, and found that Sayaka did in fact leave some of her hair in my room,” Makoto began to explain.

“Okay? And? You two are close friends, right? It makes sense that a little of her hair was in your room!”

“It wasn’t just a little hair, and it wasn’t just on the floor. There was hair all over my room,” Makoto shook his head, like he didn’t want to believe what he was saying.

“That’s not all, either,” Kyoko nodded decisively. “I went by Sayaka’s room earlier - you remember that, don’t you Sayaka?”

Trapped, Sayaka responded truthfully, “Yes, you came to my room while I was trying to calm my nerves before the trial.”

“And, curious after finding so much of Sayaka’s hair in Makoto’s room, I decided to look for Makoto’s hair in _your_ room.”

“Is that what you were doing?”

“You seemed pretty out of it, but regardless, I was somewhat surprised to see that there was an equivalent amount of Makoto’s hair in your room to the amount of your hair that was in his. Not because I disbelieved his testimony, but because at that point, suspicions were clearly falling on Makoto, and yet you didn’t seem to make the effort to clean your room of evidence that casts a bad light on you.”

“Well, why would I do that?” Sayaka tried to deflect, even though she was internally yelling at herself. Had she been so tired that she’d forgotten something so simple? “I haven’t done anything.”

“Either that, or you’re a complete amature,” Byakuya scoffed. “Not sure which one is more likely, because they both sound accurate at the moment.”

Sayaka almost yelled at him to try remembering things like that when you hadn’t slept in twenty hours or more, but stopped herself. That would practically be an admission of guilt! Come on Sayaka, get it together!

“Ah, Kyoko,” Celeste cut in, “You said there were two more pieces of evidence that suggested that Makoto and Sayaka had indeed switched rooms. What is the second piece?”

“I discovered this on a notepad in Makoto’s room,” Kyoko pulled out a sheet of notebook paper, mostly shaded in, but with plain white letters standing out in sharp contrast.

Sayaka tensed up, her blood running cold.

“Whoa, what is that?” Hiro asked.

“When you write on a sheet of paper, it can leave an imprint on the sheet behind it. Lightly shade the next page in and…”

“Oh yeah!” Hina suddenly chirped in excitement. “I’ve totally seen people do that in detective shows. When I saw that, I was like ‘Whoa. I gotta remember to tear the paper out before I use it from now on!’”

“While I’m not sure where the note itself went, the imprint clearly reads: ‘I have something I want to talk to you about alone. Come to my room in five minutes. Make sure you check the nameplates so that you get the right room, okay? - Sayaka Maizono’.” Kyoko rattled off the contents of the note like she was signing Sayaka’s death warrant.

“While the location of the note is suspect, wouldn’t the person who had received the note have gone to Sayaka’s actual room if they looked at the note?” Sakura spoke.

“Th-that’s right!” Sayaka giggled. It didn’t sound convincing, even to her ears. “I just wrote a note in Makoto’s room a couple of days ago, that’s all!”

“No, that’s wrong!” Makoto yelled again. “Even if I remembered you doing something like that - which I don’t - there’s evidence that our nameplates were switched at some point.”

“What kind of evidence? Surely they weren’t left switched. That would be idiotic,” Byakuya snarked.

“No, they weren’t left switched,” Makoto sounded more calm now, but his words still carried more force than Sayaka would have thought possible for him. “But the doors were both scuffed up from the nameplates removed and replaced.”

“I-” Sayaka knew she was in hot water at this point, but she didn’t know what to say anymore. “I-”

She’d failed again. Would she get to try a third time? Did she want to try a third time, knowing that the stakes were higher than she had thought?

“What about the knife, though? If Sayaka did it, where’d she get the knife?” Hiro asked.

“That would be an issue regardless of who killed Leon,” Celeste replied. “But at this point, do we even need to discuss this?”

“We should always strive to explain as much as can,” Kyoko nodded. “And besides, this shouldn’t take too long.”

“Actually, Hina, didn’t you say that the knife went missing while you were in the dining hall?” Makoto spoke up.

“Actually, yeah,” Hina nodded. “Sakura and I were having tea in the dining hall, and when we got there, the knife was still in the kitchen, but when we went to wash our cups, the knife was gone!”

“Which means that you must have seen who took it,” Byakuya’s eyes narrowed, seemingly irritated that Hina hadn’t brought this up before.

“The only one who came in there while we were there was… Sayaka,” Hina turned to Sayaka with an owlish expression.

“Well then,” Celeste’s words were as sharp as her ever-perfect poise, “I suppose that we have our killer then.”

Sayaka let out a sob. “Makoto… you said- you said you’d make sure I got out of here!”

“Not like this!” Makoto yelled back at her, “Never like this. Not for anyone.”

“As delightful as this moment is,” Monokuma broke in, “It’s time to vote! Pull the lever to cast your vote!”

It came as no surprise that Sayaka was the one everyone voted for.

There was a blur of activity as people asked for explanations and Makoto cried tears that were half sadness and half anger, but Sayaka remained silent as tears ran down her face.

When everyone stopped speaking over each-other, she finally spoke.

“I had to try… my bandmates, my dream, my family… I had to see if they were okay… But it looks like I failed. And… for what it’s worth, I didn’t realize the stakes for success were quite so high.”

Her classmates looked on as she was led away to her death by Monokuma. She didn’t dare to look at any of them. Not even Makoto.

Sayaka was led up onto a stage, with a long seam down the middle and what looked like a beartrap around the edge. Seeing her looking, Monokuma apparently decided to explain… something. The explanation was practically nonsensical anyway.

“Oh yeah, I was originally going to use the beartrap, but I was worried that the splatter from that might be too much for some members of the audience, so I changed it.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Sayaka found herself in the middle of the stage, singing for her life. There was a meter off to her left that was filling as she sang. When it was nearly full, Monokuma lept on stage and smashed it.

Only a moment later, the seam in the stage split, revealing a huge trapdoor that led to a pit filled with uneven spikes.

With nothing below her, Sayaka found herself tumbling down into the newly uncovered pit. She felt the spikes impaling her body all over -

And everything went black.


	2. Nagito's Killing School Life - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nagito Komaeda appears to have awoken in a place both strange and familiar, with two sets of memories knocking about in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... before we begin this chapter, I should probably give you a disclaimer or two.
> 
> The time loops in this story are not straightforward. They are not standard. They have taken inspiration from the time loops utilized in the Infinite Loops Project. This story is not part of the ILP, nor do the time loops here work exactly the same (for example, I ditched the concept of an "Anchor", because I didn't like it and found it limiting), but concepts like Variant Loops are... too interesting to pass up, in my mind.
> 
> Second Disclaimer: I couldn't decide if I wanted to solely do shorter pieces, or if I wanted to do a series of canon-rewrites with varying levels of detail. I decided to do both! Odd numbered chapters are shorter, and aside from character relationships, fairly self-contained. Even chapters are longer re-writes, broken into chunks of about 5000 words a chapter.
> 
> So yeah! First re-write begins now! This one is a VA-based class swap. I... hope you like it. I can't promise it's the best thing ever, but hopefully it's at least well-formatted, readable, and enjoyable.
> 
> Additionally, I will be embedding CGs for this re-write! Some will be the original, but not many - and because re-drawing things takes a lot of time, I'm not going to wait until I have all the pictures to post the written portion. Pictures will be added as they are completed.

Somewhere, a man struggled against his binds as a robotic bear, half-white and half-black, looked on. He was tied to a chair. The bear was smiling.

After only a few seconds, the bear hit a large red button. The man was placed into a rocket ship against his will, screaming loudly, but no-one heard.

Or perhaps it was just that no-one came.

The rocket was then launched up into space. It crashed into many layers of ceiling and roof before exiting the building, then higher and higher and faster and faster, until it suddenly stopped and began to plummet back down.

The rocket crash-landed back in the exact same spot from which it had taken off. The doors of the rocket opened, and the man’s bones tumbled out of the cockpit.

The robotic bear laughed.

~~~

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/190673856@N05/50505705646/in/dateposted-public/)

The high school was larger than any other he’d ever seen before. It was taller even than the buildings around it - a difficult feat in the middle of a city.

Not that this particular high school didn’t deserve that, of course. It was practically the center of the world, in some respects.

Hope’s Peak Academy…

Only the very most talented attended. It was the place where the future was shaped, in more ways than one.

Some say that those who manage to graduate would be set for life, but he knew better. Those who manage to graduate from Hope’s Peak shape lives - both theirs and others.

The school had been helping society grow stronger for almost eighty years now, despite what some people might say. Not that it would be a bad thing for the school to be older, of course, but saying it had “hundreds of years of tradition” was simply incorrect, although he understood the temptation to claim otherwise.

It was built to raise _hope_ in the nation’s future. Such a pure and perfect goal… no other goal could ever be more valid. And the school was even named after its goal! How very perfect.

There were two qualifiers to being accepted into the main course student body at Hope’s Peak…

Firstly, any potential students had to already be attending high school. Secondly, they had to be exceptional in a way that was difficult to match, usually relating to a talent they had cultivated.

Anyone who did not fit both criteria could technically apply to be a part of the reserve course, but the only way to get into the main course was if a student was scouted by the school itself.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/190673856@N05/50606055636/in/dateposted-public/)

And one day, right when a new school semester was about to begin, a boy stood at the front gate of his new school, staring at it in disbelief. How had he gotten here? How had he been accepted here?

The boy didn’t stand out too much, but passerby might have noticed his hair, which was white and fluffy like a cloud. His clothing choices didn’t stand out, after all, and he didn’t have any other defining physical features.

The boy’s name was Nagito Komaeda.

  
[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/190673856@N05/50505775252/in/dateposted-public/)  


His life had been rather abnormal, but he was still surprised that it had led him here.

In fact, it was that abnormality that made it such a surprise that he was here.

That abnormality made him a liability in the eyes of many, including teachers, classmates, and himself.

So why oh why had this brilliant and wonderful school of hope so much as allowed him in the same city as its brilliant self?

It didn’t make any sense.

None of this made any sense.

He was such a liability, such a disaster, that sometimes _he_ didn’t want to be in the same location as himself.

That’s just the way things were.

And yet, for some reason, here he was.

He wondered if the faculty and staff of Hope’s Peak knew what they were getting into.

Probably not.

But he was still standing there in front of the school, clutching his acceptance letter so tightly that the paper wrinkled.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/190673856@N05/50606055636/in/dateposted-public/)

“I wonder if this school will remain standing with me in it…” he muttered to himself.

It was such a brilliant symbol of hope, a metaphorical lighthouse… it would hate to see it fall.

He would also hate to cause his new classmates to fall.

They were all such talented symbols of hope after all… he’d taken the time to research them all, you see.

Because of the way the main course students were selected, it was relatively simple to find information on most of his new classmates.

Websites and message boards were full of chatter about them, causing so much traffic on these websites that posts found themselves misdated to several years back.

Between broader internet searches and those long, rambling message threads, Nagito had been able to find a rather sizable amount of information about his new classmates.

They were all so talented, so amazing… such wonderful symbols of hope.

For example, one incoming student was the “Ultimate Pianist”.

This girl was known worldwide (in certain circles) for her brilliant performances, both in contests and even in her very own concerts.

There was also the “Ultimate Detective”.

He had once solved a murder case that had stumped veteran detectives, including this boy’s own uncle. However, Nagito did notice that all of his more recent cases were smaller things, usually petty theft.

Then there was the “Ultimate Fashionista”.

She’d been on the cover of numerous fashion magazines, and it was said that she was what every high school girl wanted to be. Nagito thought that was probably a bit of an overgeneralization, but still thought her accomplishments were more than a little impressive.

Oh, and the “Ultimate Biker Gang Leader”!

Such a charismatic leader he was, if every biker gang in Japan was willing to follow his lead. Truly the right type of person to be a symbol of hope.

Beyond those few, there was also the Ultimate Martial Artist, the Ultimate Cosplayer, the Ultimate Writing Prodigy, The Ultimate Swimming Pro, the Ultimate Programmer, the Ultimate Sculptor, and then still more…

Reading it all made Nagito feel slightly giddy with excitement. He was going to be in the same location as all of these powerful symbols of hope!

But he couldn’t find information on all of his future classmates. Some of them didn’t seem to have much - or any - internet presence.

He wondered what kinds of symbols of hope they might be. Certainly, they would be more worthy to attend the school than he was. There was little doubt in his mind about that.

“After all, I shouldn’t really have been invited at all,” Nagito mumbled to himself.

And if they weren’t any more deserving of their slot than he was, at least he wouldn’t be the only one in that boat. He’d just have to make sure they knew what boat they were in.

Honestly, though, he still didn’t get why someone like him was chosen to go to such a wonderful high school as this.

Looking at his acceptance letter, he could read the reason they said was why they invited him, but the letter read: “We recently held a lottery to select one ordinary student to attend our school. As a result, you have been selected, and we invite you to join us as the _Ultimate Lucky Student_.”

In some ways, it seemed like a cruel joke. One _ordinary_ student? The _Ultimate Lucky Student_? After how much trouble and strife his luck had caused him, it seemed truly ludicris to put those two sentences next to each-other.

Considering how much of a liability he was to the people around him, it probably would have been for the better if he declined the offer.

But he was far too selfish for that. Hope’s Peak was such a powerful _symbol of hope_ , after all, how could he possibly say no?

As he was standing before the school, the morning of his very first day, he still toyed with the idea of leaving before anything could happen. The people around him tended to get hurt, after all.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/190673856@N05/50606055636/in/dateposted-public/)

“Well…” he muttered to himself, “There is still one person who has yet to fall from being too close to me…”

Gripping his acceptance letter even tighter, Nagito steeled himself.

The letter said there was going to be a meeting for the incoming Main Course students in the main hall at 8 AM.

While that meeting wouldn’t begin for a little while longer…

“Just go on inside,” he mumbled to himself, “Maybe nothing will happen. Maybe there will be another exception.”

“Yes… another exception. You won’t hurt them just by being there.”

Nagito took a deep breath to steady himself.

Feeling both more and less ready than he had before, he stepped forwards into the school.

~~~

“This is the correct location for the meeting, isn’t it?” Nagito glanced around the main hall. “They didn’t give me the wrong place to meet in order to exclude me?”

He looked over at the clock in the corner of the room. It read 7:10 AM.

Well, the meeting didn’t start until 8 o’clock. There were a full 50 minutes beforehand. So it seemed possible that this was the correct location for the meeting, but no-one else had arrived yet.

“Well, I was worried something might happen on my way here, so I left a bit early…” Nagito muttered to himself, “But nothing did, so I got here much earlier than necessary. Ah, the irony…”

He glanced around the empty, if well designed, hall. There wasn’t anything of interest in it, except maybe the architecture. And architecture was not mentally stimulating enough to observe for nearly an hour, so Nagito decided to explore a little bit of the school. Maybe if he knew his way around better, he’d cause less trouble for the people around him.

“It _would_ be better if I don’t cause problems that could be avoided, so it’s certainly better for me to understand the layout of the school, right?” he asked himself. Additionally, it would prevent him from having to look at the main hall architecture for almost an hour.

Hoping that nothing bad would come of this initial exploration, Nagito stepped forwards into the remainder of Hope’s Peak Academy.

Maybe he might find another exception here, after all. Maybe he could make a friend that wouldn’t suffer a terrible fate because of him.

He could always dream.

“Huh?”

But as soon as Nagito began to move into the interior of the school, the world warped.

Every color, every little bit of visible light seemed to melt together, spinning and twisting into a distorted blur.

And that twisted, melted mess of color dancing before his eyes was all he saw for a moment, and then…

That too disappeared, and everything went black.

This time through these events, this was how everything began.

Not that Nagito could have possibly understood that yet…

After all, at that point, for as abnormal as his life had been, it was nothing compared to what would come.

Not to mention, the things he would _remember_.

**_Prologue: Welcome to Despair_ **

“Hm…?”

“Wha…?”

“What happened?” Nagito lifted his head up off the school desk, where he had apparently been sleeping.

“Where am I?” he wondered aloud, not expecting anyone to reply. He was alone, after all.

Nagito glanced around the classroom, utterly perplexed by this turn of events for a minute or so.

And then, all of a sudden, out of seemingly nowhere…

He remembered.

Not how he got into the classroom, oh no, that remained a mystery. One that seemed even more mysterious than before, even. No, what he remembered was…

He remembered three years of classes, here at Hope’s Peak. He remembered Jabberwock Island, and the Killing School Trip. He remembered dying.

“How did I end up here? Now?” He asked himself quietly. He didn’t want to be too loud… more likely than not, someone was listening.

He was certainly within Hope’s Peak, that much was certain. And a quick glance at the windows told him _when_ he was, as well.

He racked his brain, looking for an explanation, and re-discovered another set of memories.

He had two sets of memories at the moment - one that had been part of Hope’s Peak Class 77, and had participated in the Killing School Trip, and one that was a part of Hope’s Peak Class 78, and had just woken up trapped within what he knew to be the Killing School Life that he had read so much about.

What was going on? Some sort of bizarre time travel?

From what he could remember, he wasn’t the only person in this Class 78 who wasn’t supposed to be here, either…

Well, there was nothing to be done about it except keep moving forward.

He would have to keep his foreknowledge - however little it may be, given the changes to the student body - to himself. If Junko - or whoever had taken her place - knew? That would be the end of it.

Confusion still scrawled heavily across his face, Nagito stood up from the desk.

Part of the Killing School Life… and given where he had woken up… had he taken Makoto’s place?

He wasn’t worthy of being the Ultimate Hope, he knew that, but…

If Makoto wasn’t here, he’d have to try.

And besides, he sort of knew what was going on, right?

So he could do his best to bring this Killing Game to the proper conclusion.

With his mind made up, Nagito set about looking around the room, making sure he didn’t miss anything, in order to show the Mastermind on the other side of those cameras that he was no more of a threat than the other students.

(He was more of a threat than the other students.)

First things first, he needed to look at those windows.

More than anything else, it was the windows that clued him in to where and when he was, and the cameras had definitely seen him looking at them. Looking at anything else first would be suspect.

“Now what is this…?” he muttered for show as he peered at the windows.

The bolts were uneven in size and placement. Evidence of the rushed nature of the school's sealment, no doubt.

But they were on there good and tight. No-one would be able to get in with these here.

No-one would be able to get out, either.

He lifted his hand and rapped on the metal sheet.

“Solid metal. Rather thick,” he said for the cameras.

And cold. Too cold to be fake. If there had been any doubt in his mind before, now it was gone. He really was trapped in Hope’s Peak as part of Class 78’s Killing School Life.

He peered at the surveillance camera, making a show of his interest in it.

Meanwhile, he wondered how much better of a show these Killing Games would be if they had less stationary cameras.

Geeze, what a weird thought.

It’s not like he wanted to go through Killing Games over and over again…

Although, if his dual sets of memories were indicative of things to come, it was highly possible that he would be participating in Killing Games again and again. In which case, maybe his thought about the cameras wasn’t quite so odd after all.

Well, whatever. It wasn’t like it was relevant at the moment anyway.

A quick glance at the clock revealed that the time was 8 AM. Nearly time for that meeting of all the students in Class 78. That would certainly be different.

He was actually looking forward to it, a little bit.

“I wonder…” he murmured as he returned to the desk he had awoken on.

He picked up the little pamphlet sitting on the desk and opened it.

“This doesn’t quite look the same as the one I got before…” he said, surprising himself as he realized he was referring to the Orientation Guide that he had received with his acceptance letter - this time around. How… odd…

“A cheap pamphlet, the text scrawled in by hand…” he lowered his voice but continued to speak aloud. Careful, careful. Don’t say too much, don’t say too little.

 _The next semester is about to start_ , read the pamphlet. _Starting today, this school will be your entire world_.

“My entire world…?” Nagito repeated that last phrase aloud, adding a questioning lilt to the end even though he knew exactly what it meant.

“Okay, so…” Nagito made a little bit of a show out of ruminating on the situation.

He had died, he remembered that. Eventually his illnesses had come for him and taken him away. But somehow, after dying, he’d ended up in Hope’s Peak as part of Class 78?

It didn’t make any sense.

And yet, it was what was happening, so he would have to roll with it, at least until he got a better idea of the bigger picture.

“So then, if that’s what’s going on…” he figured his sentence fragments were probably confusing the audience.

However, that had been one of his favorite things about watching the Killing School Life as a member of Ultimate Despair. Makoto had had such a terrible habit of starting a thought inside his head but finishing it aloud, or possibly vice-versa. He’d thought it was rather funny then, and he frankly still did, so he decided to emulate it.

Well, it wasn’t like anyone was going to complain, were they? So really, it was just for his own amusement. No harm, no foul, right?

“It’s 8 now, right?” He glanced at the clock again to double check. “So I should go to the main hall. The other students are probably waiting on me.”

He felt awful for making people wait for him, but he remembered a life before this one, one where he had had Hajime tell him, again and again: “You are important too, you know. If nothing else, at least accept that you are important to _me_ , okay?”

Speaking of Hajime, where was he? Nagito hoped that he was alright, wherever he was.

Nagito stepped out into the vividly purple hallway, and let out a small scoff.

“Who picked this color? And for a _hallway_?”

He shook his head and began to make his way towards the main hall.

This really was a terrible color for a hallway.

Junko(?) might be many things, but an interior designer was not one of them.

Looking about, he began wondering about how the hallways were colored. Was it paint? Was it the lights?

Well, it hardly mattered, in any case. He had a meeting to get to.

He pushed open the doors to the main hall and was greeted by fourteen confused faces, some more familiar than others.

“Praise be to Atua! Another student has joined us!”

“Atua…?” Nagito blinked in confusion. That was new. “And… another student?”

“Yeah… We’re all new here. Today’s supposed to be our first day of class.”

“With him here, we number fifteen. That’s plainly a good class size, but is this really everyone?”

Nagito looked out at the other students who were now a part of this new Class 78 with him. Some of them he recognized, but others… not so much.

The Ultimate Imposter was there, posing as Byakuya Togami, and that was Toko Fukawa, there… along with a few other faces he knew, but none so well as those two.

But they were now all his classmates, even if only one of them had been his classmate before. They were all important.

“Ah… hello everyone. Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Nagito Komaeda,” Nagito introduced himself. “Something odd happened, and I found myself asleep in a classroom somehow.”

“That happened to Gonta too!” exclaimed a large and barefooted boy, who was evidently named Gonta.

“It must be the will of Atua,” a girl in a yellow raincoat said with a smile.

“Or perhaps something strange and sinister is going on?” a boy dressed all in black frowned.

“D-don’t say that!” Toko yelped. “We d-don’t know that!”

“Just a moment! There’s another issue we need to address!” Kiyotaka - at least, Nagito thought his name was Kiyotaka - broke in. “Nagito! Your tardiness is unacceptable! Surely you were aware that this meeting was to start at 8 on the dot! To be late on your first day is completely irresponsible! I must report you, and you must face due punishment!”

“Good God, chill out,” said someone who was probably Mukuro, “It’s not like he _wanted_ to be late. He was passed out here in the school, just like the rest of us!”

“Everyone just calm down! Listen, why don’t we all take a minute to introduce ourselves?” asked a girl covered in musical notes.

“This isn’t the fuckin’ time for that!” growled a person who Nagito believed was named Mondo.

“Atua says that it is important to know each-other's names so that we can talk amongst ourselves more freely~” the raincoat girl spoke again. Who was this Atua person she spoke of? “Therefore, now is exactly the time for introductions!”

“I’m not sure I would have put it that way, but that is a good point…” that was Chihiro Fujisaki, wasn’t it? The mind behind the Neo World Program? How incredible.

“Truthfully, I am not certain why we waited this long to do such a thing,” the Ultimate Imposter had his arms crossed, “Seems like a load of foolishness to me, but what can I really expect from you skinny types anyway?”

Well, if nothing else, Nagito was glad to see that Twogami hadn’t changed a bit.

And while he knew of some of these people, he didn’t know the rest of them… Plus, he’d gone back in time somehow, so who’s to say there wasn’t something different about these people than the versions of them he’d heard of before? Sure, his second set of memories had looked them up on the internet, but that website had glitched out enough that it was saying that new posts had been made four years ago, so he wasn’t about to exactly call it a reliable source.

And… was that student a robot? Seriously? A robot?

Well, he supposed Chiaki _was_ an AI, but she hadn’t started that way! 

Well, if nothing else, he supposed that there was probably a story there.

He approached the boy who was probably named Kiyotaka to begin the introductions.

“I’m Kiyotaka Ishimaru. I believe in bold simplicity! Let’s work together on our educational crusade!”

**_Kiyotaka Ishimaru - Ultimate Moral Compass_ **

Ah, so his name was Kiyotaka. Nagito hadn’t remembered incorrectly.

Other things Nagito could remember about him… Not much. Only that he’d done a lot of community service work, and had a very strong sense of ethics and morality. Those two things together had earned him the title of _Ultimate Moral Compass_ , which Nagito felt was a very impressive feat indeed, especially since things like that weren’t as immediately obvious as some talents.

“Anyway, you can call me Taka. You said your name was Nagito Komaeda, right?” Nagito nodded. “What an excellent name that is! You should thank your parents for bestowing you with such a wonderful name!” Taka continued talking, heedless of the fact that Nagito’s smile had become slightly fixed. “And never forget that you have to live up to that name every single day! Life is worth putting in every single ounce of effort, so that we all may stand tall! Right? Right!”

What a different point of view…

Although, what did it have to do with his name?

Thoughts of such matters were replaced with trepidation as he approached Toko.

“N-not that you’ll remember my n-name anyway, but… I’m T-Toko… Toko Fukawa.”

_**Toko Fukawa - Ultimate Writing Prodigy** _

Oh, so she didn’t remember. Er- that was probably a good thing. Considering that he’d been part of Ultimate Despair when they first met, he was fairly certain that he’d made a terrible first impression.

Yes, it was definitely better that she didn’t remember. That sort of history, in this sort of situation? That would have been a disaster waiting to happen.

Although, that did lead him to wonder about the Warriors of Hope and Komaru… 

Wait -!

Something about Komaru - his second set of memories -

An… exception…?

Toko made an odd little grunting noise, pulling Nagito back out of his head.

“Wh-what? It’s not polite to stare, you know. Stop staring at me like I’m some filthy creature!” Toko growled.

“Filthy creature? Ah, but how can I stare at myself?” Nagito tilted his head in confusion.

“At- at yourself? But…” Toko was confused, caught off guard by Nagito’s reply.

“I was admiring the inner beauty that is the hope of an Ultimate! I apologize for looking too long,” Nagito glanced down at his feet, seemingly abashed.

“The inner beauty…?” Toko looked really confused for another moment, before shaking her head, an angry expression on her face again. “Don’t lie to me like that! No-one thinks I’m pretty! I know that!” she jabbed a finger towards Nagito’s face. “Just- Just get out of here! Go talk to someone else!”

At that point, Toko almost seemed to collapse in on herself, head down, eyes up, and still softly growling.

Nagito took the hint and decided to go talk to someone else.

“Hello, I’m Tsumugi Shirogane! I’m plainly happy to meet you!”

**_Tsumugi Shirogane - Ultimate Cosplayer_ **

That wasn’t a name he recognized from his first set of memories - the ones from Class 77, and Jabberwock, the ones he thought of as his - but his second set of memories did recall hearing about her before.

Tsumugi Shirogane was the _Ultimate Cosplayer_ , well known for her skill in crafting ludicrously accurate costumes of characters from a variety of different works. She wasn’t really known for wearing the costumes herself, but given the nature of her talent, it was possible that people simply didn’t realize who she was once she had gotten all dolled up.

She charged a great deal for people to commission cosplays from her, but she spent a great deal of time on each and every single one, so it was generally considered to be a fair deal. In addition, she likely spent a great deal of time absorbing the various media from which the characters came, which was a large investment all on its own.

She probably knew more about stories and storytelling tropes than anyone else here, except maybe Toko.

“The hair is right, the voice is right… how do you feel about contacts?” Tsumugi’s musings pulled Nagito out of his own.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Yes, yes, your voice is perfect! And you aren’t even doing anything!” Tsumugi looked excited, almost bubbly.

“What are you talking about? My voice?”

“Cosplay, of course! I’ve decided that I’m going to make a cosplay for each of my classmates, free of charge, just because I can!”

“Huh? But that’s not necessary… Don’t you have a bunch of commissions? It wouldn’t be right for you to waste your time on me…”

“Don’t be silly! I want to! And besides, it would be strange to leave out just one of my classmates, anyway!” she clapped her hands together with a sense of finality. Nagito guessed that she probably considered the matter closed. “Back on track! How do you feel about contacts?”

“What? Why do you- ?”

“I know the perfect character for you, but you’d have to wear contacts. So -”

“Hey, hey, hey! Now isn’t the time for this! Stop wasting our time with this ridiculous nonsense!” Taka cut Tsumugi off.

“Cosplay isn’t nonsense!” Tsumugi protested indignantly.

“But he is right, Tsumugi… we need to focus on introductions for now, so we can talk about this later, okay?” Nagito was secretly a little glad to have Tsumugi stop scrutinizing his eyeballs.

“Exactly! Thank you, Nagito!” Taka nodded sharply to the luckster.

“Oh, alright…” Tsumugi looked disappointed as Nagito made his escape.

Well, at least she was friendly.

The next person Nagito approached was another person that his first set of memories had no recollection of. He was dressed all in black, and made Nagito quite curious.

“Oh! Uh, um, hi?” the boy seemed startled by Nagito’s approach. “My name’s Shuichi Saihara. Nice to meet you?”

_**Shuichi Saihara - Ultimate Detective** _

His second set of memories did recognize this name… He had solved a murder case that even his uncle, an experienced career detective, had been unable to figure out, earning him the title of the _Ultimate Detective_.

Given what Nagito knew about the situation that they were probably in, having someone like an Ultimate Detective on their side could only be a benefit.

But the pictures he remembered seeing and the boy in front of him… they were a little different.

“Hey, have you seen a black baseball cap-type hat around here anywhere?” Shuichi spoke, calling attention to the difference Nagito had noticed.

“Hm… no, I don’t think so. Sorry,” Nagito thought about it for a few moments before replying. He didn’t believe he’d seen anything like a hat…

“Oh, okay. Thanks anyway,” Shuichi looked somewhat confused. “It’s really strange… I know I had my hat on when I entered the building, but when I woke up again, it was nowhere to be found!”

“Yeah, I noticed that you were wearing a hat in all the pictures I found of you online.”

“I… don’t like that I can’t find it,” Shuichi frowned. “I’ve worn that hat every day for nearly two and a half - maybe even three - years. That it’s just suddenly gone… it feels weird.”

“Well…” Nagito looked pensive.

“Just… If you see it, can you bring it to me?” Shuichi grinned sheepishly.

“Of course! I’ll keep an eye out for your hat,” Nagito had a feeling he wasn’t going to find said hat, but he kept that to himself.

“Thank you,” Shuichi’s smile lost some of its sheepishness. “Like I said before, it’s a black baseball cap-type hat.”

“Black, baseball cap-type hat… got it,” Nagito nodded to show that he understood.

Stepping away from Shuichi, Nagito had a sneaking suspicion that he knew where Shuichi’s hat was - or rather, where it wasn’t.

It wasn’t here at Hope’s Peak at all.

Given what Nagito knew about the circumstances surrounding the original Killing School Life, if Nagito were to hazard a guess, he’d say that Shuichi had stopped wearing said hat at some point before the Tragedy, and therefore there was no hat to be found here, but he’d forgotten that when Junko - or whoever the Mastermind was right now - had erased their memories.

Of course, he could be wrong and the hat could turn up, but somehow... he doubted it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da! That was the beginning of Nagito's Killing School Life! 
> 
> You might have been able to tell from the flow of the paragraphs, but I was writing it as I re-played through the game - I'm hoping that doing so will assist with my pacing and level of detail, especially with regards to the Daily Life Events and the number of Truth Bullets in each case.
> 
> I have a fair bit of it planned out already, but don't be afraid to share your thoughts! I welcome them! I wanna know what you think!
> 
> When we get to FTEs, I will be asking you who you want Nagito to spend time with! Choose wisely - I don't have plans for an NKSL School Mode at this time.
> 
> I will be doing re-writes of the main three games in this continuity, but not UDG. This has more to do with "I don't know how I would do that" then not wanting to.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked it and look forward to hearing what you think about it! I hope to deliver the next part of it to you soon.


	3. Back to the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That’s called _character development_ , you _pincushion_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is officially the longest single piece of writing I've ever written. I still feel like some of the emotional beats aren't held onto long enough.
> 
> Also this is now my longest work on the Archive. It's amazing.

Byakuya Togami fell asleep in the staff quarters of Hope’s Peak Academy, exhausted after a long day of working to keep the school running smoothly. He woke up slumped over a desk, sore from the poor posture, and with his surroundings looking eerily familiar.

This was a classroom. There was a surveillance camera and a monitor. The windows had large metal plates bolted over them.

No… This- this wasn’t possible! There wasn’t any way this could be happening again!

Byakuya shot up from the desk chair, determined to uncover whatever maniac prankster was causing him to relive old traumas - probably that one mischievous first-year - when he suddenly stopped.

Something was off. His balance was off. His _center of gravity_ was off. What…?

Byakuya looked down at himself and let out a sharp gasp. He looked like he was eighteen again! How was that possible?

Either that first year - Kokichi Oma, if Byakuya remembered correctly - had taken things much too far, or something far more sinister was going on.

As much as Byakuya hoped that this was Kokichi’s doing - that would be considerably easier to deal with - he had a sinking suspicion that such was not the case.

Byakuya walked over to the window and laid his hand on the metal plate as one last check on the reality of the situation.

The metal was cool to the touch. Whatever this was, it was real.

Byakuya stumbled back from the window, sucking in a half-panicked breath. He was back inside the Killing School Life, somehow, it seemed. He needed to - !

He needed to go find the other students. He needed to find out if he was the only one who remembered what was coming next.

He needed to find Makoto.

Makoto was the only person in the entire world who Byakuya considered to be completely irreplaceable, unless he was also counting himself. If Makoto also remembered, they could work together to figure out what was going on. If Makoto didn’t remember, then Byakuya would have to protect him.

Makoto had always been extremely innocent. It was, as far as Byakuya could tell, part of what allowed him to remain optimistic and strengthen his resolve no matter the situation, but it also had the potential to get him into more than a few spots of trouble.

Therefore, it was up to Byakuya to protect him by keeping him out of as many spots of trouble as possible.

Byakuya quickly made his way to the main hall - even after so long, he still remembered the exact layout of the building - and pulled himself to a stop in order to observe.

Who was here? Did any of them remember what was to come?

Almost everyone had already gathered in the Main Hall - they were only missing Hiro, Celeste, and Makoto.

Hiro had always been Byakuya’s least favorite of his former classmates. The man was sleazy, to put it simply, in addition to being lazy. His only redeeming quality was that he was somewhat personable, but that was quickly negated by the fact that he was also a mooch. If Hiro didn’t show up at all, Byakuya would consider that to be no great loss.

Additionally, Hiro had once asked Makoto to sell his organs, and Byakuya had never forgiven him for that.

Byakuya had never really gotten to know Celeste all that well before she died, and certainly not well enough that she still left an impression all these years later. To be perfectly honest, the thing that Byakuya remembered most about her was how she died. Like all of the other executions, it had been a spectacle that had burned itself into the memory of everyone who saw it.

Byakuya remembered finding Makoto crying in his office late one night, upset because he couldn’t remember anything about Leon except how he had died, and the number his name had formed upside-down in Sayaka’s blood. He hadn’t known how to comfort Makoto, because he couldn’t remember anything either.

In death, their classmates had gone from being people to being symbols, and thinking about it always made Makoto so upset.

Speaking of Makoto, where was he? Byakuya remembered vaguely that Makoto had been the last to arrive, but this wasn’t like last time. Last time they’d all been nervous, but none of them remembered knowing each other. This time, Byakuya knew who they all were, and -

Thank God. Makoto was here.

Byakuya half-listened while Makoto introduced himself to the group, instead searching the class - but mostly Makoto - for body language cues that would suggest that they remembered.

His searching eyes were rewarded. Makoto seemed more serious and less nervous than someone who didn’t know what was coming would reasonably be. To test this, he specifically introduced himself to Makoto in a way that he knew to be more verbose than the way he had introduced himself to the sentient ray of sunshine previously.

“I am Byakuya Togami, heir by conquest to the Togami family business,” he made sure to sound suitably haughty and nonchalant, in case Makoto didn’t actually remember, but he was not disappointed.

Anyone who didn’t know about the old model of Togami family inheritance - something that he hadn’t done, instead opting to name Komaru and Toko’s adopted daughter, Kotoko, as his only heiress - would pick up on the “heir by conquest” part and surely ask about it, especially someone as curious as Makoto. But instead, he got a mostly standard pleasantry, one that told Byakuya that he and Makoto would need to find a way to talk as soon as possible.

“It’s nice to see you, Byakuya,” Makoto said with a hopeful smile.

“Yes… It’s nice to see you, too,” Byakuya couldn’t resist giving the shorter boy a small smile before remembering that Junko could see everything and smoothing his face back into a frown.

He’s turned his face away so that he’s not tempted to do anything foolish, but he hears Makoto’s small gasp.

“Don’t you have other people to talk to?” Byakuya attempted to gently push Makoto into moving along for the moment while still sounding suitably harsh for the cameras. He didn’t think he succeeded. He sounded much too fond.

~~~

Whoever had caused Byakuya to find himself catapulted into the past, Byakuya quickly came to the conclusion that he wanted them dead.

The Killing Game had begun, just like before, with an overwhelming sense of dread. Everyone looked at everyone else in open suspicion, except for Makoto, who just looked nervous and upset.

Before, Byakuya had declared from the very start that he was striking out alone. This time, he had to protect Makoto.

Makoto Naegi, the Ultimate Hope. Makoto Naegi, Headmaster of Hope’s Peak Academy. Makoto Naegi, the only person allowed to boss him around. Makoto Naegi, who he trusted with his life. Makoto Naegi, the personification of sunshine. Makoto Naegi, who had saved his life more than once. Makoto Naegi, who had taught him the value of interpersonal relationships. Makoto Naegi, who had taught him the difference between living and surviving.

Makoto Naegi, who he would die to protect if it came to that.

The two of them needed to talk, away from the cameras, but where could they go to do that? The bathhouse hadn’t opened until after the first trial, if he remembered correctly, same with the second-floor men’s restroom, and he couldn’t recall anywhere else without cameras…

“Do you mind if we explore together?” Makoto’s voice pulled Byakuya back to reality.

“Of course not,” Byakuya nodded sharply, “Let’s look for clues about… who did this.”

Makoto flashed Byakuya a brief grin, then tugged him from the gym in a hurry. A few moments later, the shorter boy led them into the school’s first floor men’s restroom, then stopped.

“Good,” Makoto sighed in relief, “I was right. There isn’t a camera in here either. Likely, she never got the chance to install one.”

“Makoto… you also remember, don’t you? Escaping this place, the Future Foundation, rebuilding the school - everything?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing!” Makoto suddenly wrapped the startled Byakuya in a hug, eyes beginning to water. “Byakuya… how did we end up here again? What’s going on?”

“I- I don’t know,” Byakuya hugged back after a moment of hesitation. “But we’ll figure it out.”

Makoto pulled back from the hug now, leaving Byakuya’s arms empty. He looked more like himself now, more determined and steadfast.

“Right!” Makoto nodded, “We’ve already been through this once, so even if we don’t know why we’re here again, we know we can make it through this, because we already have!”

“And this time, we know more going into this situation than we did last time,” Byakuya agreed.

“Still… I’m glad you remember too, Byakuya,” Makoto smiled up at Byakuya, a wide grin like a concentrated beam of sunlight.

“I-I’m glad too.”

~~~

That evening, when the fifteen non-Junko members of the class met up in the dining hall, Byakuya and Makoto did have one clue they could reasonably provide about the identity of the mastermind, thanks to the rather confused assistance of one Aoi Asahina.

“We believe that whoever trapped us here is female,” Byakuya told the group.

“Huh? Why?” Mukuro - although, Byakuya supposed he’d have to refer to her as Junko - spoke.

“Because Hina said there are cameras in the girls’ bathroom, but there aren’t any in the boys’ bathroom,” Makoto picked up where Byakuya left off, his words as convincing as ever.

“S-so? That c-could just mean it was a p-pervert,” Toko pointed out.

“I don’t think so,” Makoto shook his head. “If that were the case, there would also be cameras in the private bathrooms, and no-one’s reported cameras in the private bathrooms, have they?”

“That’s true…” Mukuro conceded.

“So a woman decided to imprison us here? Why? What does she want from us?” Taka furrowed his oversized eyebrows.

“We don’t know,” Makoto lied with a sigh, “That’s all we could figure out at this time…”

Well. It was all that they currently had evidence to back up, anyway.

~~~

In retrospect, Byakuya had fallen in love in the middle of a Class Trial.

Ignoring the years that he hadn’t remembered at the time - and even including them, if he was honest - he’d believed that he was above everyone else. He knew more, he’d read more, he was more successful, he was above them in every way. Spending time with others was a waste. Life was a zero-sum game, and he was winning.

And then the fourth Class Trial had shattered his worldview.

He had never considered that someone would place the lives of others above their own before, had never considered that someone would sacrifice themself, or that someone might try to frame themselves. He had been so confident in his conclusion - and then Makoto and Kyoko had upended everything and left him reeling.

Kyoko had quipped in an “I-told-you-so,” and rubbed salt in his wounds, but Makoto had just continued on with the trial, breaking down Hina’s walls to get to the absolute truth.

Byakuya had already begun to respect the shorter boy for his perceptiveness and charisma, the way he could sway the courtroom, even if he sometimes needed a little nudge in the right direction, but that moment, that trial…

In retrospect, that’s when it started to become something more.

Not that he’s ever told anyone about that, of course. There was always so much to do - both for him and for Makoto. And besides, Makoto acted no differently with Byakuya than he did with the rest of his friends. No point in wasting time pursuing something that wouldn’t work out.

But now, back at the beginning of the Killing Game again? Byakuya would give anything and everything to keep Makoto safe, including his own life if it came to that.

And while it would be better if no-one died, Byakuya was unable to deny that the idea of seeing Makoto taking charge in a Class Trial again was not an unappealing one.

~~~

One day passed.

A second day passed.

Then a third day.

The morning of the fourth day was when everything began to fall apart.

That wasn’t different, of course, but the fact that the one standing at Makoto’s shoulder was Byakuya and not Sayaka was.

When Mondo voluntold Makoto to go check out the motive videos, it was Byakuya that volunteered to accompany him.

When they got there, Makoto watched his video with Byakuya at his shoulder, and then Byakuya did the same, before they told anybody.

“It’s not good to watch something like this all alone,” Makoto’s voice was quiet, “We should encourage them to watch these together.”

“Agreed,” Byakuya nodded, somber.

They walked back to the dining hall quickly, Byakuya falling naturally into step just behind Makoto. This habit of his… he’d seen the other students’ curious gazes. He didn’t care as much as he probably should.

“So? What did you find?” It was Kyoko who asked.

“We did find the videos, but…” Makoto took a deep breath. “They are both disturbing and personal in nature. If… if you trust anyone here, it might be best if you watch your video with them, rather than alone.”

“Alright,” Kyoko nodded, seemingly intrigued, “But where are they?”

“Oh, right,” Makoto flushed with embarrassment. Had he not realized he’d never actually told them the location? “There’s a box full of DVDs in the AV room.”

The other thirteen students walked to the AV room, each of them brimming with nervous energy. They didn’t know what they were about to see. All but two of them didn’t have the background experiences to comprehend what they were about to see.

Despite what Makoto had said, curiosity overtook their classmates, and everyone watched their videos simultaneously. As a result, the two time travelers found themselves trying to calm down a number of distressed teenagers - something made considerably harder as a peer rather than a superior.

“These are hostage videos,” Byakuya finally managed to make himself heard over the distressed chaos.

The general panicked noisiness came to an abrupt halt. The sudden silence stretched on for what felt like much longer than the thirty seconds it really was.

“Hostage videos? What do you mean?” It was Chihiro’s voice that finally broke the still air.

“Hostage videos are videos taken of a kidnapped person - a hostage - in order to manipulate another person into doing something in exchange for the hostage’s safety. Usually, the thing the hostage-taker wants is money, but in this case it appears that the hostage-taker wants us to kill. This means that the people who appear in your videos are most likely alive, as a dead hostage is less useful for manipulation than a living one, but there is something about this that troubles me greatly…” Byakuya trailed off, his words hanging heavy in the air.

“You mean aside from the fact that people have been fucking kidnapped?” Mondo growled.

“But it was someone important to you, every last one of you, was it not?” Byakuya pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose for effect. “So how did the mastermind know who to target for each and every one of us, even those without any sort of fame, like Makoto and Kyoko?”

The silence returned to the room again, this time further blanketing the class with dawning horror. Those who didn’t already know were coming to the realization that whoever was doing this had targeted them specifically. They hadn’t been caught up in something by accident.

When they finally dispersed, Makoto sidled up next to Byakuya and whispered, “Are you sure it was a good idea to tell them?”

“I don’t know if it was a _good_ idea,” Byakuya sighed, “But I felt like they should know.”

When Makoto flashed him the briefest of grins before dashing out of the room, presumably to see if anyone wanted/needed someone to help them through the situation, Byakuya couldn’t help but think about how different he was now.

It probably wasn’t good that he was so different. Junko was surely confused by the person she was seeing on the cameras right now. But a person is made of their experiences, and Byakuya’s had decades of experiences between when he was in this situation last and now.

Maybe, if Makoto hadn’t also remembered, Byakuya could have tried to pretend. But as it was, he wasn’t going to stand apart from Makoto, even if it was just for show.

~~~

Elsewhere in the school, Junko growled at her monitors, trying to figure out what was going on with Byakuya and Makoto.

It wasn’t that her memory erasure hadn’t worked, or else the rest of the class would be acting up too. And anyway, they were acting way different than they had last week. Before she’d fired off her memory device, they’d been friendly acquaintances, more by virtue of living together in a small enclosed population than anything else. They hadn’t been _attached at the fucking hip._

And Byakuya was _deferring_ to Makoto! What the hell was up with that? Byakuya was such a proud individual, if anyone had told her he would defer to _anyone_ last week, she would have laughed in their face. If they had told her that he would defer to _Makoto_ , she would have written them off as being insane, and tried to send them to a mental hospital.

It wouldn’t have worked, because there weren’t exactly many mental hospitals left, but the point still stood.

What the hell was going on?

~~~

That night, there was a change in what happened. No-one came knocking on Makoto’s door, asking to switch.

Byakuya learned that a little past ten, when his doorbell rang, and he opened the door to find a concerned Makoto on the other side.

Makoto had burst into the room and dragged Byakuya into the bathroom, away from the cameras.

Byakuya had to mentally scold himself for wishing that Makoto was dragging him to the bathroom for a more indecent reason.

“Sayaka never asked me to switch rooms,” Makoto said, spinning to face Byakuya. “One the one hand, that’s a good thing, because it means she’s not going to use her original murder plan. But on the other hand, it means we don’t know what’s going to happen anymore…”

Byakuya nodded, understanding what Makoto meant. “You’re afraid that she’s still going to try and kill tonight, or that someone else will try to kill tonight, and you won’t be able to stop it.”

“I don’t want to play Junko’s game, but if someone’s killed, I’ll have to…”

“I know.”

Makoto didn’t stay long after that. Instead, he walked up and down the hallway once, checking the dorm nameplates against the dorm map, before returning to his room for the night.

Byakuya watched Makoto from his doorway, frowning. Makoto was often still the same optimistic boy that had shattered his worldview and stolen his heart, but sometimes…

Well, no point dwelling on it now.

~~~

Was it wrong that he was glad to be back here, in a way? Was it wrong that he was glad for the chance it gave him to spend time with the person he had fallen in love with, so long ago?

How messed up was it that the metal plates on the windows made him feel like he had finally come home? How messed up was it that he’d missed this place? How messed up was it that these memories were the ones he revisited most often - good and bad alike? How messed up was it that part of what drove him to work so hard everyday was guilt stemming from missing this place and these people, and thinking of this time fondly?

How messed up was it that he hoped that this time travel phenomenon would happen again and again?

Why was there a part of him that _wanted_ to be here?

Why was there some sick, twisted part of him that _wanted_ someone to turn up _dead_ in the morning, because there was some sick, twisted part of him that _wanted_ a Class Trial? That wanted things to be that _simple_ again?

~~~

The next morning, someone didn’t show up for breakfast.

Byakuya scanned the room, cataloging everyone present. Sayaka was there, Mukuro was there, Leon was there too. Chihiro was there, and Mondo as well. Taka was there, brow furrowed. But not - 

“Hifumi’s not here,” Byakuya said quietly, mostly to Makoto.

He heard Makoto’s sharp intake of breath. It was anxious, yes, but there was something else…

“Hey everyone? Don’t you think we should go make sure Hifumi’s alright, since he’s not here?” Makoto spoke far louder than Byakuya had, as he actually wanted to make sure everyone heard.

“I’m sure he’s just running a little late…” Leon raised an eyebrow. “I mean, he seems like that kinda person, right?”

“Y-yeah… He’s definitely the kind of t-trash that runs late all the time…” Toko’s face bore an odd expression, halfway between smug and embarrassed.

“Regardless, Makoto has a point!” Taka said, voice booming. “It is nearly eight o’clock already! Being nearly a full hour late is certainly enough of a gap that it is reasonable to check on someone!”

“Well then, if Makoto wants to check on that bastard, he’s welcome to, but I don’t care,” Leon rolled his eyes and turned back to his food.

“Byakuya, Taka, come with me?” Makoto said as he stood.

Byakuya nodded sharply and stood to follow Makoto, understanding exactly why Makoto wanted two others to accompany him.

Taka, meanwhile, looked confused, even as he began to follow them from the room.

Byakuya had a sinking suspicion that what they would find would not be pleasant.

That feeling only grew when they found the door to Hifumi’s room slightly ajar.

Makoto pushed the door open.

One…

Two…

Three…

**_DING DONG DONG DING_ **

“A body has been discovered! After a certain amount of time, which you may use however you like, the Class Trial will begin!”

Taka began screaming, even as Monokuma announced that all students should come to the gym for further instructions.

Both time travelers had determined looks set on their faces.

~~~

Everyone had gathered in the gym, as per Monokuma’s instructions.

The explanation of the Class Trial was no different than before, so neither of the boys were paying it any mind. Instead, both of them had their gazes fixed solely on one Mukuro Ikusaba.

“What the hell kinda bullshit is this?” Mukuro stepped forth, like before, protesting the Class Trial system.

“What do you mean?” Monokuma tilted his head.

“A Class Trial? Everyone being executed if we get it wrong? It’s a completely bullshit system! Why should I be punished for someone else’s wrongdoing? It’s got nothing to do with me!”

~~~

It’s got nothing to do with her…?

Nothing to do with- 

_Nothing to do with-_

**_Nothing to do with-_ **

_“It’s got nothing to do with me! Nothing to do with me!”_

...Ryoko?

She sounded like Ryoko…

But Ryoko was…

**_But Ryoko was - !_ **

~~~

Byakuya didn’t know what about Mukuro’s little speech had caused Makoto to freeze, but he knew that it was now up to him to save Mukuro Ikusaba from her untimely demise. Just as Monokuma began charging towards her, Byakuya tackled her from the side, preventing her from attacking the robotic bear. He’d have to deal with the ramifications of tackling the Ultimate Soldier later.

“What the- What are you doing?!” Mukuro’s eyes flashed with anger.

“I will not have you traumatizing Makoto any further!” Byakuya hissed.

“What? What the hell are you talking about?!”

“Are you really that stupid? If Monokuma says ‘punishment’, then he means ‘execution’! I will _not_ allow you to die _in front of Makoto!_ ”

“Wow, you sure are dedicated to Makoto, huh?” Monokuma cut into the conversation, seemingly delighted.

Byakuya let go of a stunned Mukuro and straightened up, glaring at Monokuma over his shoulder. “Makoto is the only person in this world more important than myself. I will not allow any harm to come to him if I can prevent it. ...Even if he can not dress himself in the morning, I will protect him.”

“H-hey… What’s that supposed to mean?” The light jab roused Makoto from his frozen state.

“Just that no sane person should ever wear a blazer overtop of a hoodie like that,” Byakuya quipped back, his expression morphing into something more playful, “It’s unseemly.”

“Aw, you’re so mean to me…” Makoto’s playful pout made Byakuya want to just - nope, no time for _those_ thoughts, not now, not ever.

“Are we just ignoring the fact that Byakuya said that Junko was only not allowed to die in front of Makoto? Meaning that it’s totally fine if she dies anywhere where Makoto isn’t?” That was Leon. Huh. Byakuya had almost forgotten about him.

“I only care about the lives of you cretins in the sense that Makoto would rather not see you dead,” Byakuya snapped, eyes flashing. “Kill yourselves or each other or whatever if you wish, but leave Makoto out of it.”

“I’m going to call that an improvement,” Makoto rolled his eyes playfully, despite the seriousness of the situation.

“So anyway… You guys have a murder to solve, so get to it!” Monokuma was clearly irritated as he left.

“Monokuma is correct; we must figure out who killed Hifumi, so let us get on with that,” Byakuya’s eyes were cold as he addressed the room at large, uncaring of those he deemed unimportant.

~~~

As the group decided who would stand guard over Hifumi’s corpse, one girl stood off to the side, flabbergasted by recent events. This girl - one Mukuro Ikusaba - was unsure how to react to Byakuya’s actions just now.

On the one hand, it was wildly out of character on a number of levels, considering his behavior in the two years she’d known him. On the other hand, in the past five days he’d suddenly become ludicrously attached to Makoto, so doing something like that “for Makoto’s sake” made some semblance of sense.

Either way, it wasn’t like his actions were necessary, right? Surely, there was no way Junko would have really killed her, right?

Right?

~~~

The investigation was… well, it was an investigation. If Byakuya was honest, even though he remembered doing the investigation, he couldn’t recall what had actually happened, like some part of his brain had deemed that knowledge unimportant and therefore deleted it.

The same could be said of the events of the trial also, in truth. What he remembered of the trial was the determination in Makoto’s voice, in Makoto’s features. He remembered bouncing ideas and facts across the trial circle, mostly with Makoto, while the other members of the class tried to keep up. What they had actually said was completely absent from his mind, leaving only the thrill of chasing down the truth with one of the very few people that he could truly match wits with - and the only one he didn’t mind being outsmarted by.

The only other thing he remembered from the whole affair was the execution - Sayaka’s execution. It had been a twisted concert, and at the end, a trapdoor had opened beneath her, dropping her onto a bed of spikes. Gruesome, yet appropriate.

But when all was said and done, what Byakuya took away from the trial was this - Leon was still alive, Mukuro was still alive, and Hifumi was already dead. From this point onward, the only thing that was certain was that Junko was the Mastermind. Everything else… was completely up in the air.

The game was afoot once again.

Why did that give him such a thrill?

~~~

The next day, Monokuma called them to the gym to exercise and tell them that they could access the second floor now.

If Mukuro noticed that Makoto and Byakuya stayed close to her the entire time they were in the gym, she didn’t say anything.

The second floor was the same as it had been oh-so-many years ago, even if the people wandering about it were not all the same.

Makoto spotted Leon talking with Hina in the pool entryway, comparing the equipment in the boys’ and girls’ locker rooms to make sure they were all the same. And in the library, instead of Hifumi arguing for the inclusion of comics in this library, it was Mukuro arguing for the inclusion of more young adult fiction.

“I get what you’re saying, Toko, but ‘real literature’ can be pretty dang dense sometimes! What if I want to read something lighter every once in a while? Seems to me like a pretty big oversight to not have any young adult fiction here at all…”

“B-but including such ‘light reading’ would be a waste of space! This library isn’t big enough to waste space on reading that doesn’t relate to the talents of the students!”

“Ugh, you’re so full of it!”

“Wh-what?”

“You heard me, you pretentious bitch!”

Fearing that the argument would escalate into a fight (which could easily escalate into a death given Mukuro’s Ultimate), Makoto stepped between the two screaming girls. “Please, just stop! Does it really matter that much? I mean, it’s not like either of you were the ones who planned this library, right?”

The screaming fell to silence in an instant. Mukuro and Toko glared at each other around Makoto for a long minute.

“...She’s still pretentious,” Mukuro finally said, turning to leave. “I hate pretentious people. They always grate on my nerves.”

There was a part of Makoto that wanted to ask how she put up with her sister then, but he kept his mouth shut.

After Mukuro left, Toko snidely muttered, “Stupid s-slut.”

Makoto heaved a sigh and moved to talk to Byakuya and Kyoko about the letter. He’d almost forgotten Toko used to be like this…

He was so much more used to his vibrant and violent sister-in-law, who was loud and proud about her serial killer past, claiming she used those skills to keep her family safe. A creative type, a violent type - a talented author, secretary, and bodyguard - all of those things were how Makoto would describe Jackie.

This timid and snide shadow of the past was something that Makoto had very nearly gladly forgotten.

~~~

When morning came, Byakuya was still attending breakfast with the others.

“And here I thought I was going to have to convince you,” Makoto grinned playfully.

“They don’t have access to poisons at this time,” Byakuya said, “So it’s better if I stay where I can keep an eye on you.”

Byakuya thought it was a little odd how large a bite of food Makoto shoved into his mouth after that, but decided not to question it.

Across the table, however, Mukuro decided to absolutely question it. “Sooo… how long have you two known each-other?”

Byakuya raised an eyebrow at her tone of voice, feeling a flutter of internal panic. Next to him, he could hear Makoto choking on his oversized bite. Deciding that the best answer was a half-truth, he replied, “We met in the Main Hall here at Hope’s Peak, of course.”

“Really? But you act like you’ve known each other for years!” Mukuro looked thoughtful.

“Well, I don’t know what to say to that,” Byakuya shrugged and lifted his coffee mug to his lips in a clear dismissal, “We met here at Hope’s Peak, and no sooner.”

Of course, that did not contain any mention of the fact that, for them, that meeting here at Hope’s Peak had happened decades prior. It did not mention the years they worked together, fighting the apocalypse and running a school. It did not mention how long Byakuya had wanted to grab Makoto by the chin and - no, no, _no!_ Why did his mind keep going to _that_ recently?

“Hmm,” Mukuro hummed. “Hey, have either of you checked out the bathhouse yet?”

“...What are you trying to imply?” Byakuya’s eyes narrowed.

“Nothing, nothing!” Mukuro held up her hands in mock surrender. “I haven’t checked it out yet either, you know? But I heard there was like, a sauna in there! I was thinking of trying to find some decent loose-fitting clothes for everyone and trying to get us all in there. What do you guys think of that?”

“Is the sauna big enough to hold everyone at once?” Makoto suddenly piped up, apparently done choking himself. “We should go check and make sure, don’t you think?”

Ah, of course, they were maneuvering into a conversion away from the cameras. Why hadn’t he managed to pick up on that earlier? Had his mind truly fallen that far into the gutter?

“I shall accompany you then,” Byakuya said, putting down his coffee mug as Makoto stood up. “I don’t trust you to stay out of trouble, even for such a short amount of time.”

Makoto laughed, a light and bright sound that illuminated even the most dire of situations. “Okay, okay, Byakuya. But really, you just don’t want to stay here by yourself, right?”

“How dare you suggest such a thing,” Byakuya replied playfully, but didn’t actually refute the claim.

Makoto thinking he was lonely was better than Makoto realizing that he simply didn’t want to leave Makoto’s side.

~~~

The moment they were all inside the bathhouse locker room, Mukuro spun to face Byakuya, expression intense as she said, “Why did you stop me from attacking Monokuma? How did you know what was going to happen? Why is it that the next morning, I suddenly had - have - these extra memories? Why do I remember dying?”

“You… remember that?” Byakuya blinked.

“I knew you knew something about it. So, please, explain what’s going on!” Mukuro sounded almost half-panicked now, despite her disguised carefreeness and her natural aloofness.

“Please calm down, Mukuro, and we’ll explain everything,” Makoto gestured placatingly at her.

“H-how do you - !?”

“You need to calm down before we can talk through anything,” Byakuya pointed out.

Mukuro took a deep breath and straightened up. “How do you know about me? Did - did Junko really intend to kill me?”

“This is… our second time through these events, too,” Makoto shrugged. “We don’t… really know why it’s happening, especially now that you’re here too, but…”

“I knew you two had known each-other longer than a few days. So, how far did you make it, then, if this is your second time through? Do you think this is the beginning of some sort of… time loop, or something?”

“I’m beginning to suspect that it might be a time loop of some sort, considering that you’re here, but… um…” Makoto trailed off, clearly uncomfortable revealing that they had survived to Mukuro.

“We defeated your sister and escaped,” Byakuya decided to say it for him.

“Huh,” Mukuro blinked in surprise. “Well, I guess that explains how you know who I am…”

“There were six trials,” Makoto began talking in earnest now that Mukuro knew, “The first three were murders. The fourth one was a suicide, and then your sister re-used your body in the fifth one as a trap to try and kill Kyoko. The sixth was a showdown between us and her, and we won.”

“To say that _we_ won the sixth trial is not very accurate,” Byakuya sighed, “It would be far more accurate to say that _you_ won the sixth trial.”

Makoto flushed at Byakuya’s words. He began feeling an answering heat crawling up his own face, but then the moment was ruined by Mukuro speaking.

“Junko _re-used_ my body?!”

“And blew it up,” Makoto puffed out his cheeks, “Toko went flying.”

“Okay, okay…” Mukuro was visibly attempting to calm herself, “So… who all made it out, then?”

“Byakuya, Kyoko, Toko, Hina, Hiro, and I made it out last time,” Makoto tapped his chin thoughtfully, “But… last time Hifumi wasn’t killed until case 3… and Leon was already dead by now…”

“Adding myself in there, it’s probably fair to say that you don’t know what’s going to happen next,” Mukuro crossed her arms. “But the fact of the matter is, more people are going to die.”

“Almost certainly,” Byakuya sighed. “And we can’t really stop it, not with Junko able to see almost everywhere. I’m sure she’s already suspicious enough of Makoto and I.”

“Nah, she just thinks you’re fucking.”

Byakuya felt heat rise to his face as Makoto stuttered out a “Wh-what?” next to him.

“I- I suppose that’s better than the alternative?” Byakuya tried to keep his desire to do exactly what Junko thought they were doing from coloring his voice.

Considering the eyebrow that Mukuro quirked at him, he didn’t think he’d been entirely successful.

“We should probably get going soon,” Mukuro sighed, “Or else Junko really will get suspicious. But when you get the chance… leave me a note or two, outside the view of the cameras. Actually… pick a locker, and we’ll leave notes in here. If only one of us is coming in here at a time, then Junko won’t have any reason to get suspicious.”

“That’s a really good idea!” Makoto still looks a bit flustered, but he’s smiling, so that’s alright. “I can’t believe we didn’t try that last time…”

“It does leave physical evidence of the conversation, though,” Byakuya pointed out.

“Junko won’t come in here,” Mukuro countered.

“In this case, it’s not her I’m worried about.”

“Byakuya…” Makoto turned towards him, eyes understanding yet disappointed.

“Who are you worried about, then?” Mukuro asked.

“Sakura, obviously,” Byakuya said.

“Byakuya!” Makoto stamped his foot in indignant disappointment.

“I _know_ she’s being blackmailed,” Byakuya huffed, “But that doesn’t mean we can trust her. She might not try to kill us, but information - she might tell Junko.”

“Then we’ll pick a locker low to the ground,” Mukuro said, “One at eye-level could be easily spotted, anyway.”

Makoto made a small huffing noise, but nodded.

“How about this one?” Mukuro dropped down and pointed at a locker on the second row, which was near the left end of the structure but not at it.

“Sounds good!” Makoto smiled at Mukuro, clearly pleased.

He was so cute. How was it even possible for someone to be so cute?

“Byakuya, what do you think?”

“Hm? Sorry, could you repeat the question?”

“I asked you what you think of the locker,” Makoto was smiling at him again.

“I suppose, if we are going to use a locker as a mailbox, there are far worse options,” Byakuya acquiesced.

“Good,” Mukuro nodded sharply. “Now all we need is paper.”

“I’d bring my notepad in here from my room, but Junko would surely see me doing so…” Makoto trailed off with a frown.

“Go and get it anyway,” Mukuro said. “Then, when you’re back in here, tear off the top sheet and draw a diagram of the sauna, which you will then give to me. When we leave, we can look at and discuss the diagram, which will give Junko the impression that you forgot the rest of the notepad in here by accident.”

“Yeah, okay, that could work,” Makoto had his finger hooked beneath his chin. “I guess I should go get the notepad, then. I’ll be right back!”

Makoto darted out of the room, leaving Mukuro and Byakuya alone together.

“How long have you been in love with him?” Mukuro spoke suddenly.

“Wh- _what?_ ”

“I may not have lived past the age of eighteen, but I went to school with you for two - I guess I have two sets of memories, so maybe four - whole years. And the Byakuya I knew was cold, callous, and aloof. Yet you dote on Makoto, going so far as to say that he’s more important than you are.”

“That’s called _character development_ , you _pincushion_.”

“Character development is how you’re treating non-Makoto people, even if you did just call me a pincushion,” Mukuro narrowed her eyes. “Yet when you stopped me from attacking that stupid robot of my sister’s, you said that Makoto was the one person you considered more important than yourself. Additionally, you follow him everywhere in a comfortable silence. There’s a reason my sister thought you two were fucking - and she’s the Ultimate Data Analysist, so it’s hardless baseless.”

“That’s -” Byakuya knew that he was completely red in the face by this point.

“Don’t try to deny it. Just tell me how long.”

“...Decades.”

“D-decades?! And the two of you _aren’t_ together? Why not?” Mukuro looked completely confused.

“Why… would we be?” Byakuya didn’t understand the question.

“Because -”

“I’m back!” Makoto chirped when he walked back in, brandishing the notepad and oblivious to the conversation he interrupted. “I got the notepad and a pencil!”

“Awesome!” Mukuro’s demeanor changed in an instant. “Now we just need the decoy diagram!”

Either Mukuro was a better actor than Byakuya had given her credit for, or… No, it was probably that Junko was a difficult person to portray. It’s not like _Junko_ even fully understood her character.

While Makoto drew up the decoy diagram, he and Byakuya gave Mukuro a few more details about what had happened after she died last time. They told her the order of everyone’s deaths, and about the second Killing Game.

“I never liked that she kept brainwashing people,” Mukuro sighed. “Even with Yasuke’s research and Ryota’s animations, it’s not like that stuff is unbreakable, you know? And when brainwashing fails, you’re left with a bunch of angry and traumatized people. Although you can still end up with angry and traumatized people without brainwashing.”

“I don’t really understand the whole premise of the Izuru Kamakura project, though,” Makoto huffed while drawing. “It really was just asking for trouble, wasn’t it? I mean, all those illegal experiments? And for what? “Hope” and “talent” aren’t the same thing, and if there’s a group more in need of therapy than the Ultimates accepted to Hope’s Peak, I haven’t met them yet.”

“Huh? What do you mean by that?”

“Mukuro, think about it. In our class, how many of us _didn’t_ have some horrible trauma in our childhood?”

“The answer, in case you don’t know, is just Makoto, Hina, and maybe Sakura,” Byakuya glowered at the Ultimate Soldier.

“ _Just_ those three?”

“Do you think it’s alright if I tell her?” Makoto asked Byakuya.

“Tell me what?”

“As long as she doesn’t go around talking about those sorts of things openly, it should be fine,” Byakuya reasoned. “After all, they don’t know that you know these things either, therefore they would be clueless and suspicious as to how she knew.”

“What are you telling me?”

“I’m going to tell you - in vague terms - about the childhoods of our classmates,” Makoto stood up, having finished the sauna diagram, which he handed to Mukuro.

“What about them?”

“Sayaka grew up alone, which is part of what pushed her into becoming a pop star. I don’t think I need to tell you about your own childhood. Leon was so pressured to pursue his talent that he began to resent baseball, even though he enjoyed playing. Chihiro was bullied so much that he began pretending to be a girl in order to escape from it. Mondo was so often unfavorably compared to his brother that it caused him to become reckless in an attempt to prove himself, resulting in his brother’s death. Exactly what happened to Taka, I’m not certain, but I’m fairly certain that he was beaten, based on some of the things he’s said. Hifumi has experienced and internalized a dearth of positive feedback. Celeste is so ashamed of her origins that she hides everything about herself under layers of lies, even I could never figure out exactly why. I could never figure out Junko because I was never sure what was really ‘her’. Hiro’s mother is constantly a little out of it, and not really fit to be a parent; I don’t know the specifics, but there’s no way that was a good environment to grow up in. Toko’s got so many issues stemming from repression, rejection, and who even knows what all else that I don’t even know where to begin. Kyoko’s father didn’t want to be a part of the family business, which, from what I can tell, meant that he was forced to abandon her due to the family politic. Byakuya was conditioned into believing that human connections were a weakness. And that’s just our class! From what I can tell, the other years tend to be just as bad, if not worse,” Makoto was frowning, an angry and determined look in his eyes. “What’s needed for the country to progress at this point isn’t people with even _more_ talent, it’s for the people who already have talent to be less _traumatized!_ ”

Mukuro just stared at the angry young hope, blinking every few seconds.

Byakuya, meanwhile, was restraining himself from scooping Makoto into his arms and whispering into his ear, “It’s okay now. You’ve _made_ it okay now. I’m better now and it’s all thanks to you.”

He wanted to comfort him like that more than anything.

What was happening to his impulse control? Why was it so much weaker than before?

Makoto took a deep breath and then handed the completed diagram to Mukuro. “Here. We should probably get going, right?”

“Yeah,” Mukuro plastered on her fake Junko smile and spun around to walk out of the room, the boys hot on her heels.

~~~

The next two days passed fairly quickly. Mukuro found herself spending more and more time with both of the boys, much to her sister’s confusion.

In fact, they all ended up spending a decent amount of time in the library archives, reading the cold case files.

“This was a favorite pastime of mine as a child,” Byakuya explained as he handed a file to Mukuro, “But now I just think it will be good practice for whenever someone caves next.”

“I don’t like the idea of people caving,” Makoto sighed, “But it’s honestly more likely than not at this point.”

Mukuro simply nodded and joined them in reading and discussing the files. If she was honest…

If she was honest, it was probably the best time she’d had since leaving Fenrir. Maybe even since before that.

~~~

The notepad in the dressing room had a little conversation going in it by the third day of relative peace. Someone who read it - well, if it wasn’t one of the three who meant to read it, it might be a bit confusing.

_Your Sister-In-Law is following me again._

_She does that?_

_Sister-In-Law?_

_The one following me._

_Ah, I see._

_The “Bros” are Bro-ing again._

_How long will that last?_

_Last time, it only lasted until the next motive._

_So, only until tonight?_

_Unless something changes. But considering that we have an extra person, who knows?_

_What can I do?_

_Keep an eye on the butter tub. If he is triggered, someone will die._

_Understood. I’ll prevent him from killing._

_We’re trusting you with this one, pincushion. Don’t disappoint us._

~~~

That night, everyone is called to the gym to receive the next motive. Makoto felt like rolling his eyes when he saw his secret. _Makoto Naegi wet the bed until the fifth grade_. Anymore, he had secrets far more important than this barely-embarrassing scrap of paper.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered what Mukuro’s secret was. Was Junko willing to gamble that someone would die and give her something that revealed her true identity?

Once again, Taka suggested that they all go ahead and share their secrets. Once again, everyone declined to do so. Once again, Chihiro made a comment about wanting to change.

What was different was who Chihiro approached, about an hour later.

~~~

“What.”

“I-I’m sorry, is it that surprising? Am I really that weak?” Chihiro blinked back tears, hands bunching up the folds of his skirt.

“That is not what I meant,” Byakuya shook off some of his surprise, although he was still considerably confused. “I simply do not understand why you would approach _me_.”

“Well, ‘cause - ‘cause you’re really strong!” Chihiro’s stance changed to one more akin to hyping someone up, cheeks puffed out almost comically. “And you’re a protective person, so I know you can help me!”

“A… protective person?”

“Yeah! You’re always making sure that Makoto is safe, and you saved Junko, too! Working out with you, I know I’d be in good hands,” Chihiro retreated into a more neutral stance now.

Byakuya stared down at the incredibly tiny boy, completely baffled by his explanation. Him, Byakuya Togami, protective? That was… it felt absurd. He knew that he had changed, as time had passed, but to be called “protective” really threw how much he had changed into sharp relief.

The first time around, he had trusted no-one. He had sequestered himself in the library. He had tampered with evidence, and made everything harder for everyone. He had been self-serving, fully believing that he would have to sacrifice everyone in the school in order to win - and fully believing that he would win.

But this time, Chihiro Fujisaki - _theresacorpseinthegirlslockerroomletsdressitupandmakeitlooklikeTokodiditsowecanseewhosthethreattomywinhere_ \- was asking Byakuya to help him work out - _onhiswaytoworkoutnevercameback_ \- and was saying that Byakuya was… protective?

Yes, he considered himself to be very protective of Makoto, but in general? There were not many people he cared much for, and he was not about to put his life on the line for someone he didn’t care about. He did things sometimes that perhaps others might consider selfless, but that would be incorrect to assume.

He was completely selfish.

Everything he did, he did for Makoto, himself, Kotoko, Komaru, or Toko. As far as he was concerned, everything he did, he was acting selfishly in order to make things better for his family.

To be called generally protective was… odd, to say the least.

“Byakuya…?” Chihiro’s hesitant voice called him back to the present.

Byakuya sighed. “Alright, I’ll help. On one condition.”

“Condition…?”

“Makoto comes too.”

Chihiro almost lights up at that. “That’s okay! Makoto’s really nice, and I trust him! Thank you so much!”

“In that case, I suppose that we’ll be meeting in front of the locker rooms tonight?”

“Y-yeah, if that’s okay?”

“That’s fine.”

“Yay! I’ll see you both then! Thank you again!”

Chihiro then ran off with a smile and a pleasant wave to the taller boy behind him.

Byakuya found this interaction perhaps the most confusing thing that had happened since he awoke decades before falling asleep.

~~~

“We’ve been invited to go work out tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Well, it would be more accurate to say _I_ was invited. But I said I would only attend if you were allowed as well.”

“Who… invited you?”

“Chihiro.”

Makoto blinked in confusion for a minute. “...Huh.”

“That was my reaction as well,” Byakuya felt oddly pensive. “H-she called me _protective_.”

“Well, you are protective,” Makoto countered with a smile.

“Only towards a select few, and you know it.”

“You saved Junko,” Makoto smiled softly.

“Her death was unnecessary! And it would have hurt you, so I had to do what I could,” Byakuya could have sworn that he sounded almost defensive. But that didn’t make any sense, so clearly his ears weren’t working properly.

“Sure, if you say so.” Was Makoto smirking? When did he learn to do that?

“I do say so,” Byakuya huffed.

“Okay, okay. So we’re going to work out with Chihiro tonight?”

“Yes, we’ll be meeting h-her in front of the locker rooms just after the nighttime announcement.”

“Are you… going to come get me when you’re leaving?” Makoto was chewing on his lower lip. He must have been worried about something happening tonight.

“Of course,” Byakuya replied with a nod, eager to put the smaller boy at ease, “It isn’t safe to be walking about alone the night after a motive is introduced.”

For a moment, Byakuya thought he might have seen a flash of disappointment flicker across Makoto’s face, even as he nodded in agreement. How very odd.

~~~

That night, Byakuya rang Makoto’s doorbell, and then the two of them set off for the locker rooms together. They met with Chihiro, who told them that he was actually a boy. They feigned surprise, and then the triad entered the boys locker room to work out for a while.

After exercising for an hour or so, they headed back to the dorms, agreeing to meet again the next night. On Chihiro’s end, everything had gone smoothly, perhaps better than he could have hoped.

As for the other two boys, memories of sweaty and flushed faces were seared into their memories, leaving them flushed even now that the sweat was gone.

~~~

The next morning, Makoto had just stepped out of his room to go to breakfast when he heard Hina scream.

“AHHH! SOMEBODY, HELP!”

Makoto ran towards Hina’s voice, which was coming from - the dining hall? Why was she screaming in the dining hall?

...oh.

That was why.

Crucified on the wall and dripping pink down to the floor, was the body of Kiyotaka Ishimaru.

Next to him, the word “bloodlust” was written on the wall in blood.

The crucifixion, the message, the _scissors_ \- one look, and Makoto knew exactly who had done this.

The next one to die was going to be the one that his sister had - would’ve? - married.

The next one to die was going to be the one that had kept the school _safe_ when he was - would be? - the headmaster.

The next one to die was going to be Toko Fukawa.

He felt sick.

~~~

They investigated, of course, both for proof that Toko was Genocide Jack - Genocide Jill - Jackie - that _wasn’t_ “I’m from the future,” and for evidence that showed how the case had unfolded. The boys both hoped that she was being framed, remembering the woman who had stood strong against the world, but they doubted they would find that such wishes were the truth.

And when it came to the trial, it came out again that Toko was Genocide Jill, but this time it turned out that she was truly the killer.

~~~

The execution was called “Evolution of Writing”. It opened with vises clamping around Toko’s heels, preventing her from moving. Then, hammer and chisels gouged into her feet. A moment later, a giant brush laden with ink swished down, pushing Toko back and forth with sheer force. The ink dripped down into the gouges in her feet, causing her to scream. Already in pain, she didn’t notice the addition of the printing presses until they were crushing her hands. While she was still screaming, her tongue - still about a foot long even when she wasn’t Jill - was forcefully grabbed by a metal claw of sorts, and began being used to type on a keyboard. The force being used caused the keys to fly off, one after another, until finally Toko’s tongue came down on exposed wiring. In that moment, there was a horrible smell, like burnt flesh - and Toko’s body ceased to move.

~~~

Makoto cried that night. Toko had been one of his closest friends, before. She had been his sister-in-law.

But as he cried, he was forced to ask himself: Was the Toko that had just died _really_ the same person as the one his sister had married?

Should he really be crying right now?

What was real, and what was a fabrication?

...Byakuya was real. Mukuro was real. After that, the lines began to blur…

~~~

There was no real Alter Ego fiasco, this time. Mondo didn’t project Taka onto the laptop, it wasn’t in his nature. Hifumi was already dead, so there wasn’t anyone growing overly attached to the program, either.

No, this time, things were relatively quiet. The deaths almost seemed to come out of nowhere.

~~~

The morning had started like any of the others Mukuro had had since the Killing Game began. She woke up, donned her disguise, and then set out for breakfast.

She hadn’t expected to immediately hear people screaming. She hadn’t expected to immediately be greeted with a Body Discovery Announcement.

Following the sound of the screaming, Mukuro rounded the corner to find the body of Yasuhiro Hagakure, slumped forwards against his door. In his hand, he clutched his room key. His skull had been cracked open, and there was blood all around, but no weapon could be seen.

She was about to begin investigating this death - no time to waste - when another cry was raised.

“ _Chihiro!_ ”

~~~

The body of Chihiro Fujisaki was found in the laundry room. It appeared that he had been strangled.

The room was a mess, and the rope was still looped around his neck. It was clear that whoever had killed the petit boy, they had left in a hurry.

~~~

In the trial, it was revealed that Chihiro had been the intended target of two different people. The first had been Yasuhiro Hagakure. The second had killed Hiro, because they evidently had very much wanted the proposed large amount of money.

The second, rather unsurprisingly, was Celestia Ludenburg.

~~~

The fourth case, the fourth trial… they were very much similar to how they had originally played out, only with a different, slightly larger cast in the trial. Originally, it had been Makoto, Byakuya, Kyoko, Hina, Toko, and Hiro. Now, they had Makoto, Byakuya, Kyoko, Hina, Mukuro, Mondo, and Leon.

With Alter Ego ultimately getting smashed again, things looked very much the same.

~~~

A few nights later, Makoto came down with a fever.

On the one hand, it was rather odd - they were completely sealed inside the school, so how had he contracted the fever? On the other, Byakuya used the notepad in the bathhouse to tell Mukuro that this had also happened last time, which made it slightly less odd.

Of course, just because he had survived it last time didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous now.

~~~

It had been Kyoko, this time, to notice the unresponsive Monokuma. Knowing what it meant, Byakuya had quickly headed for Makoto’s room, afraid of what he might find there.

He was right to be afraid. He arrived just in time to see Junko lifting a knife over the sleeping Hope, mask and all.

“Makoto!” he yelled, both to draw Junko’s attention and to wake the sleeping boy. As Junko startled, he lunged at her, heedless of the knife she was wielding. He would not allow her to bring harm to Makoto.

“What the heck?” Junko growled. “Why do you keep defying my data sets? Why can’t you act like you’re _supposed to?_ ”

The two of them grappled with each other there in Makoto’s room. Behind him, Byakuya could hear Makoto stirring.

“Byakuya… what…” Makoto’s sleep-drenched and nasally cold-affected voice finally spoke.

“Makoto!” Byakuya yelled once more, attempting to startle the smaller boy into total alertness.

This was a mistake, as dividing his attention so allowed Junko to drive the knife into him. He was sure he made some sort of sputtering noise, but he couldn’t hear it. The world had gone bizarrely silent, tinged with an eerie grey-pink…

But he’d done what he could to protect Makoto… He couldn’t harbor any regrets for doing that… 

No regrets...

He only heard one thing as his vision began to fade…

**_“NO!”_ **

~~~

If you asked Makoto Naegi exactly what had happened in his room the last night of the Killing Game, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. He remembered crying out as Byakuya was stabbed, and then the next thing he remembered…

He remembered standing over two corpses in his bedroom - one with a single stab wound, and the other with several.

He remembered collapsing in tears over Byakuya’s silent chest, not caring about the blood being smeared over him.

He remembered being found by Mukuro the next morning, who told him they had to leave now that the air purifier was off.

He remembered that she had to half-carry him, causing her clothes to become smeared with blood.

He remembered the stunned looks on the faces of their other classmates when they saw them. He remembered vaguely wondering if they were more stunned by the blood or Mukuro’s identity reveal.

He remembered the last words he said before leaving.

**_“I’m sorry I never told you I love you.”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today, let's discuss three items of business!
> 
> Item One: Was this too long? I want y'all to have a comfortable reading experience, so it's important to make sure I don't make the chapters too short or too long.
> 
> Item Two: I have an instagram now? I post doodles related to my fics, so if you want visuals to go along with the story, you can find me there. My handle's the same, but all in lowercase. However, my experience with social media is about zero, so... yeah.
> 
> Item Three: Short stories going forwards! Given the nature of the loops, I'm always open to suggestions! But that doesn't mean I don't have ideas of my own! In fact, I have several concepts and prospective titles for upcoming short story chapters. But... interacting with my readers sounds like so much fun! So I propose that, starting with the next short story chapter, in the end notes I will list the short story chapters that are just about ready to be written! I might list them by main PoV character, the initials of the main PoV character, the prospective title, or the initials of the prospective title. I haven't decided! But, I think it could be fun. What do you think?


	4. Nagito's Killing School Life Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nagito finishes up his introductions, and Monokuma makes his first appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed that this story is now tagged to have spoilers for DR0. I did this because I know that not everyone has read DR0, largely because it never had an official English release. If you don't care, read on. If you do, there are fan-translated PDFs floating around the internet (that's how I read it). Go read it and then come back. I'll wait. Of course, you might not even realize what I'm referring to, but I figured better safe than sorry.
> 
> Oh, and if you didn't see before, I'm doing CGs for this now! They trail a bit behind the writing, but the first part of NKSL has three as of posting!

Nagito stepped towards the next student, who appeared to be a robot, of all things.

This robotic student had a mostly sleek look to him, shiny and obviously metal, except for his hair. While his hair was spiny-looking in style, it looked like it would be soft to the touch.

Nagito wanted to touch it.

“Excuse me, but is there something in my hair?” the student asked.

“Oh, no, I was just thinking it looked soft,” Nagito attempted to give a charming smile.

However, the other student only looked somewhat offended. “Were you thinking it would not be soft, because I am a robot? That’s robophobic!”

“Ah, I’m sorry. I meant no offense.”

“...Well, I hope you can overcome your prejudices in the future.” The robotic boy huffed.

“May I ask your name?”

“Oh! Yes, of course!” The robotic student puffed out his chest and placed his hands on his hips, “My name is K1-B0, but please, call me Keebo!”

_****_

_**K1-B0 - Ultimate Robot** _

“Ah, a pleasure, Keebo,” Nagito bowed slightly.

“Likewise - Nagito, correct?”

Nagito nodded in reply.

“Well, I am hoping we may become friends!” Keebo smiled determinedly, “I am eager to show that humans and robots are truly alike by becoming friends with everyone!”

“Given a little time, I am certain we can become friends, especially since my goal is to become friends with all of my classmates as well,” Nagito smiled.

“Indeed!” Keebo nodded decisively.

Stepping away from the robot, who currently looked pleased as punch, Nagito made his way over to a girl wearing a yellow raincoat.

“Nyahaha! Another new classmate to meet! I am Angie Yonaga!”

_****_

_**Angie Yonaga - Ultimate Sculptor** _

Wracking his second set of memories, Nagito managed to recall some information about her. She was the _Ultimate Sculptor_ , the foremost creator of painted wood and stone sculptures in this millennium. She was well known for inspiring feelings of lust in those who saw her work, and for attempting to convert millions to her religion.

“It is wonderful to meet such a talented artist,” Nagito nodded in greeting.

“Oh, but I only make what Atua makes! He merely channels himself through my body,” Angie smiled as she shook her head.

“I think you give yourself too little credit. Isn’t it your hands that create the sculptures?”

“I think you give me too much credit!” Angie beamed. “Atua is a deity! Atua gives me the skill to carry out his will.”

“I still disagree, but perhaps this isn’t worth fighting over? At least not at this moment?”

“Agreed! Atua says that it is important for us to all get along, since we are all going to be classmates!”

Nagito smiled and stepped away from the little religious zealot, turning instead towards the programmer who would be behind the Neo World Program.

As he walked over, his second set of memories began to stir up a sense of deja vu - huh?

“Hello, nice to meet you. I’m Chihiro Fujisaki,” said the petite programmer.

_****_

_**Chihiro Fujisaki - Ultimate Programmer** _

“Sorry, I always get embarrassed when introducing myself like this…” the beskirted boy smiled up at Nagito. “Anyway, I hope we can get along!”

“That would be a pleasure,” Nagito smiled. “It is wonderful to meet you also.”

“...Huh?” Suddenly Chihiro seemed to startle and perk up. “Maybe it’s just my imagination, but… have we met before?”

“Well, met might be a strong word for it, but…” Nagito found himself speaking before he really understood the words tumbling out of his mouth, “Maybe we attended the same middle school? I feel like I’ve seen you around, although I can’t imagine why you would remember me…”

“Ah, that’s right! You’re Nagito Komaeda! You set the school on fire once!” Chihiro lit up and clapped his hands together in delight.

“Ah, of course… that’s why you would remember someone like me.”

“Well, it was very memorable…”

“My life is full of memorable things that I’d rather not remember…”

“Well,” Chihiro beamed at the Luckster, “I’m glad I know someone else here, even if it’s only a little bit!”

“I agree,” Nagito found himself smiling at the smaller boy, so small and yet so essential, and found this weird protective urge flaring up within him.

This boy was going to be a survivor, Nagito was going to make sure of it.

“Yay! You should probably go introduce yourself to the others now, so… We’ll talk some more later, okay?” Chihiro put his hands behind his back and beamed up at Nagito.

“R-right. We can talk later.”

Nagito walked away from his conversation with Chihiro both confused and elated. He hadn’t realized he’d almost-met the programmer before in this timeline, which left him quite off-balance. Additionally, there was that odd feeling he’d had, like he needed to make sure that Chihiro was one of the ones who survived. He couldn’t help but feel that he’d just met someone who was going to change his life.

The next person Nagito walked up to was a blonde girl whose outfit was liberally adorned with musical notes.

“Hey, do you have any idea what’s going on? No-one else seems to,” the girl said when he approached.

While Nagito absolutely did have _some_ idea of what was happening, he wasn’t going to say that where the Mastermind - was it still Junko? - could possibly hear.

“No, I’m just as confused about this as the rest of you,” he lied.

“Well, that’s no good. I’m getting worried about how little we know here,” the girl huffed. “Anyway, I’m Kaede Akamatsu. Nice to meet you.”

_****_

_**Kaede Akamatsu - Ultimate Pianist** _

Wracking his brain, Nagito was able to recall what this timeline’s self had found out about Miss Akamatsu on the internet.

She was a talented pianist, so much so that she was actually quite famous among enjoyers of classical music and piano concerts. She’d had her own concerts, and there were rumors that she was going to try turning her hand to composing her own pieces, but nothing concrete on that front.

“Indeed, it is a pleasure to meet such a talented musician as yourself,” Nagito bowed dramatically, playing it up in hopes of amusing her.

Kaede let out a small snort. “Hey, thanks! I didn’t think anyone else here would know too much about music.”

“My knowledge about music is mostly of the ‘listening to it’ kind,” Nagito admitted with a smile, “But I try to keep an open mind, and I enjoy learning new information!”

Kaede laughed, although it sounded a little strained, “Well, if we find a piano later, maybe I can teach you how to play, how does that sound?”

“That sounds like an enjoyable experience, which I will look forward to,” Nagito wondered vaguely where all this positivity was coming from so suddenly, “Although I will understand if you decide to cancel the idea later.”

“Huh? Why would I decide to cancel?”

“Ah, no reason in particular,” Nagito waved her off.

“I… see…”

“Well, I should introduce myself to the others, so… Bye now!” Nagito said and walked away.

He thought he saw Kaede giving him a weird look as he left, but he couldn’t be quite sure.

The next person he approached, he had first thought was likely to be Mukuro Ikusaba disguised as Junko Enoshima, but as he got closer, he was less and less sure. Was there a chance that this was the real Junko?

“Hiya, Cloud Head!” she grinned as he approached, “I’m Junko Enoshima! You’ve probably heard that I’m the _Ultimate Fashionista_ , but that’s really only part of my talent! I’m the _Ultimate Data Analyst_!”

_****_

_**Junko Enoshima - Ultimate Data Analyst** _

This… was the real Junko. But how? And… who was behind all this, then? Because looking at her, he could see in her eyes and freckle-less face that this was the real Junko. Not to mention the way she held herself, and then there was the subtle difference in voice…

“Hey, back up, stop staring at my face!” Junko snapped. “You didn’t really strike me as a fashion fan, Sun Boy.”

“Ah, sorry!” Nagito brought his hands up defensively. “It’s just -”

“Let me guess - you thought my pictures were photoshopped, didn’t you?”

“I -”

“Well, guess again, Einstein! I’m the real deal! As real as it gets! I’m Junko fuckin’ Enoshima, accept no substitutes!”

“Again, I am sorry,” Nagito took a small step back. What was going on here?

“You can make it up to me by doing something unexpected later,” Junko grinned. “As the _Ultimate Data Analyst_ , it’s easy to predict things that happen, you know? So when people defy my data sets on them - what a rush! So you’d better do something interesting later, okay Cloud Head?”

“Ah, sure, I’ll try,” Nagito smiled apologetically, “But, ah… my name is Nagito?”

“Yeah, I know,” Junko shrugged. “But nicknames are fun, Nags! They bring a delightful bit of spice to an otherwise bland and cheesy interaction. Besides, people’s reactions to different nicknames are pretty interesting. So you’ll just have to get used to it, because I’m gonna give each and every one of you enough nicknames to fill a bus all by yourselves.”

“... Okay?”

“Ha! I like you already, Nags,” Junko grinned, eyes sparkling with mirth, “Now go say hi to everyone else. I can tell this conversation’s kinda stalling.”

“Right…” Nagito stepped away from _**Junko Enoshima**_ , mind reeling.

There was no doubt in his mind that he had just talked to the real Junko Enoshima, and not Mukuro Ikusaba. Was this game being run by Mukuro then, without interference from her sister? Was Junko playing a long game? Or was the Mastermind someone else entirely, someone with no connection to Junko at all?

With uncertainties swirling about in his head, Nagito stepped towards the next person he needed to introduce himself to properly.

“Name’s Mondo Owada. Nice to fuckin’ meetcha.”

_****_

_**Mondo Owada - Ultimate Biker Gang Leader** _

“Of course! It’s wonderful to meet all of you,” Nagito said with a smile, which seemed to greatly unnerve Mondo for some reason.

“Yeah…” Mondo really did seem quite confused.

Sensing that perhaps the gang leader didn’t want to talk any further, Nagito stepped away. Well, that had been short.

Had Makoto’s first meeting with Mondo been that short?

Well, he supposed that it didn’t really matter. He still had four more people to greet, after all.

“I am Sakura Ogami.”

_****_

_**Sakura Ogami - Ultimate Martial Artist** _

Well, huh. Sakura didn’t quite look the way he remembered.

While Nagito hadn’t really known Sakura personally, he knew a lot about the Killing School Life and her role in it, and she’d had more than one statue erected in her honor - one of them on Jabberwock Island, even. It did not look like the woman in front of him.

This woman had darker skin, and lacked Sakura’s distinctive scarring. Her hair was not long white dreadlocks, but instead floofy dark brown curls pulled back into a bun sculpted like a card suit club. Additionally, she wore noticeable dangly earrings, shaped like little geometric windchimes.

But she was dressed the same as all the pictures and statues of Sakura Ogami, and he didn’t know who else she could be… he decided to believe her, and believe that she really was Sakura Ogami.

She began to poke at Nagito, seemingly searching for muscle. He just stood there and let her do it, still somewhat lost in thought.

Finally, she stopped. “You don’t seem to be unfit, but you are far from capable of being my sparring partner. How disappointing.”

“Ah, I know I am rather disappointing,” Nagito sighed. “For all the misfortune I bring, I am hardly a fitting compensation, yet I still do try my best.”

“That is hardly what I meant,” the behemoth of a woman said, “Only that I have yet to find someone with whom I can spar”

“Really?” Nagito asked, “Not even the large and evidently barefooted man over there?” Nagito pointed at - he believed the boy had said his name was Gonta?

“I asked him already,” Sakura huffed.

“What did he say?”

“He said that a gentleman did not hit women.”

“I see…”

“Perhaps I can create a sparring partner then…” She mused.

“What do you mean?”

“Would you be willing to train to become a sparring partner worth my time?” She narrowed her eyes down at him, making her look quite intimidating.

“I do not know when I’ll have the time, but I shall certainly do my best to live up to your lofty expectations,” Nagito managed not to shrink back under her gaze, but his voice came out a bit less than perfectly steady.

Sakura seemed to size him up once more, before nodding curtly and moving her gaze to the middle distance.

Nagito let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

His conversation with Sakura now seemingly over, Nagito moved to speak with the only person here who had been his classmate before.

The Ultimate Imposter was most familiar to him in this form, and as such, he had been given the nickname “Twogami”, which most everyone had called him. Hiyoko hadn’t, preferring to continue to call him “Ham Hands”, but that was Hiyoko for you. And, well, Twogami was a good friend. In this morbid game, Nagito hoped he lasted a bit longer than last time.

“My name is Byakuya Togami,” the Imposter said.

_****_

_**“Byakuya Togami” - Ultimate Imposter** _

“It’s an honor,” Nagito bowed slightly.

“Hmph.” Twogami huffed.

Nagito suppressed a chuckle at his friend’s attempt at prickliness. Knowing him, that wouldn’t last long at all. Probably not past the announcement of the Killing Game, even. Despite his commitment to his act, Twogami was one of the most selfless people Nagito had ever met.

“The point of introductions is to introduce one’s self to everyone. Is there a reason you’re still standing here?” Twogami cut in.

“Ah, sorry,” Nagito waved his hands placatingly, “I was just lost in thought for a moment.”

“Well, get yourself un-lost, we don’t have time to waste.”

“Yes, sir,” Nagito playfully saluted before stepping away.

The next person Nagito needed to introduce himself to was the large barefooted boy with the long moss-green hair, the one who had spoken in the third person earlier, calling himself Gonta.

Nagito approached him, but he remained silent, fiddling with the strap of his - what was that, a bug cage?

After around a minute of silence - Nagito could feel Twogami glaring daggers at his back - Nagito finally spoke first.

“Hey, um, excuse me?”

“Ah! Thank you!” the larger boy said.

“... What?”

“Gonta look scary, so many people avoid. Gonta is happy you are not!” Gonta smiled in a way that looked so innocent, not even Chihiro’s happy little smiles compared.

“Oh, I know all about being avoided,” Nagito nodded.

“Really? People think -”

“Nagito Komaeda.”

“People think Nagito scary too?”

“Oh, all the time.”

“But Nagito not big like Gonta?”

“Ah, but my luck is shifty, and people close to me are often hurt because of it,” Nagito explained. “People think I’m scary because they don’t know what will happen with me around. It’s understandable, but I would rather they didn’t.”

“Ah, now Gonta understand!”

“I’m glad,” Nagito smiled.

“Oh, but Gonta still has not introduced himself!” Gonta startled, despite having already referred to himself as “Gonta” several times in their conversation. “Gonta’s name is Gonta Gokuhara. Gonta is the Ultimate Entomologist!”

_****_ ****

**_Gonta Gokuhara - Ultimate Entomologist_ **

Nagito’s head began to play a particular song, but he quickly shook his head to clear it. Now was not the time.

“Ah, so is that like a bug catcher, then?” Nagito pointed at the little satchel slung around Gonta’s body.

“Yes! Portable home of bugs!” Gonta’s face lit up with childish glee, “But is empty right now. If Gonta find bugs, Gonta will give them a home!”

“That’s very noble of you,” Nagito smiled at the larger boy once more.

“Ah! Thank you! Gonta want to be a gentleman more than anything else!”

“Oh yeah, Sakura said something about that…”

“Sakura want to spar with Gonta, but gentlemen not hit girls,” Gonta frowned.

“Well… I don’t think it counts if it’s sparring, and you both agree to it. After all, she asked you, didn’t she?”

“Gonta still not sure…”

“Well, we have to figure out what’s going on here first, don’t we? So you don’t have to worry about it right now.”

“Nagito right! More important things right now.”

“Alright, I need to go talk to one more person, but it was nice to meet you.”

“Yes! Nice to meet Nagito too!”

With a smile at the gentle giant, Nagito stepped away and instead veered towards the final of his new classmates, who he believed was named Celeste.

“I do not think we have been introduced. I am Celestia Ludenburg.”

_****_

_**Celestia Ludenburg - Ultimate Gambler** _

“Celestia Ludenburg? What an interesting name… are you by chance of european descent?” Nagito decided to play along.

“Indeed,” Celeste appeared to brighten somewhat at this recognition. “But it is preferred that you call me Celeste.”

Nagito’s brain might not always be the most functional, but now it whirred and clicked away, giving him an idea that sounded quite beneficial for everyone involved.

“If that is what you would prefer, that is what I will do, but I was thinking of calling you Lady Celestia, since you are a european heiress or something of the like,” he smiled in a manner he hoped was charming.

“Oh my!” Celeste’s eyes practically sparkled, and she couldn’t suppress a grin of delight. “Very well, I will allow that.”

Nagito stepped away from that encounter confident that he had made a positive first impression.

“Alright, now that that waste of time is out of the way, let’s get down to business and figure out what’s going on here,” Twogami huffed.

“Agreed! There is clearly something fishy going on here! All the windows have been bolted over, and there’s a huge metal hatch in the Main Hall!” Taka shouted with a nod.

“Yeah, that definitely wasn’t there when I got here! And I know I didn’t exactly get here with a ton of time to spare, so how’d all this renovation get done so fast?” Kaede furrowed her brow, pensive.

“Gonta not understand why everybody fall asleep,” Gonta said.

“Atua says that everything is going to plan!” Angie was remarkably cheerful, despite the already bizarre situation.

“Well, your _aTuA_ can go jump off a cliff!” Junko snapped. “I know that y’all aren’t the best at putting things together, but this is clearly mega fucked up!”

“I… agree with Junko,” Shuichi said hesitantly.

“I certainly agree that things are quite worrisome, but would you mind going into a bit more detail?” Twogami pushed up his glasses.

“Seriously? Fine,” Junko rolled her eyes. “So to start with, there’s obviously the big hatch. Something like this takes time to install, and way more than it could’ve had if the timeline we think is correct actually is. Second, we all fell asleep when we entered the school, which cannot possibly be a coincidence. Third, the metal sheets on the windows, same deal as the hatch. Fourth, the building layout is the same as the school we were supposed to come to, so this isn’t, like, a different place, or if it is, it’s well disguised. Fifth, our stuff is missing. Shuichi’s been asking about his hat, I can’t find my phone, et cedra. Give me a little more time, and you can bet I’ll have more to say.”

“I can’t say for certain about the building layout, but I agree with the rest of Junko’s points,” Shuichi nodded.

“Well,” Celeste said in an impossibly neutral voice, “Those are several rather convincing points.”

“Oh no…” Chihiro whimpered softly and shifted… closer to Nagito? “What’re we gonna do? What’s happened to us? Why?”

“My guess? They were targeting the school, and we, the first-year class, got swept up in it,” Junko narrowed her eyes. “I could be wrong, but I need more information to be sure one way or the other.”

“But Atua says everything is going to plan,” Angie piped up again. “As long as you believe in Atua, you will be safe!”

“Safe?” Gonta looked at Angie.

Angie nodded. “Just so long as you believe in Atua!”

Junko let out a low growl.

“I cannot say it is alright to believe that everything is just fine when we appear to be sealed in,” Twogami interjected, “But it is also not a bad thing to try and stay calm.”

“Indeed,” Celeste nodded. “Perhaps that makes it even more important to remain calm, as emotion can easily turn to weakness.”

“Calm? She’s giving him false hope!” Junko’s eyes flashed angrily. “And don’t give me that bullshit about emotions being a weakness! Emotions are what makes life worthwhile! Emotions change people! Emotions make people unpredictable! Emotions are not a weakness, emotions are our greatest strength!”

“Alright, enough!” Taka’s voice boomed loud over the room. “False hope or not, there’s no point in yelling about trivial matters! There are greater issues at hand!”

“Taka’s right,” two voices said in unison. Then the owners of said voices - Nagito and Kaede - turned to face each other, somewhat surprised.

A moment later, Kaede shook her head and continued on.

“We need to figure out what’s going on, first and foremost. Everything else can wait.”

Almost as if it had been waiting for their priorities to shift, the monitor suddenly came to life with a loud _**DING DONG BING BONG**_ , showing a glitchy, silhouetted image of the bear that only Nagito recognized.

“Ahem! Ahem! Testing! Testing! Mike check, one, two! This is a test of the school broadcast system! Am I on? Can everyone hear me?”

Nagito shivered in what could only be called anticipation. In the coming game of life and death, those with the most hope would be the ones that remained. There would be six of them, standing tall.

Of course, if there were a way in which everyone could leave, that wouldn’t be terrible. They were all symbols of hope, after all.

“Okay, well then!”

And if Nagito was honest, those twenty-some-odd days he’d spent in the Killing Game were some of his fondest memories. Maybe that was a little insane, but he knew it wasn’t just him that felt that way.

Whatever happened here, new fond memories would be created, and he couldn’t say he wasn’t looking forward to it, even as he planned to take down the Mastermind in the end.

“Ahh, to all incoming students! I would like to begin the entrance ceremony at… right now! Please make your way to the gymnasium at your earliest convenience. … That’s all. I’ll be waiting!”

The monitor clicked off, and the room was dead silent for a moment before everyone started to murmur. Chihiro pressed close to Nagito’s side, clearly afraid. Junko and Shuichi drifted towards each-other, perhaps thinking of comparing notes. Toko and Tsumugi both seemed to curl in on themselves, frightened. Twogami, Taka, and Kaede quickly began discussing the best course of action, leaders all three.

“It’s probably best if we do actually make our way to the gym now,” Kaede addressed the group a moment later. “We don’t know what’s going on, and we can’t afford to take stupid chances when we don’t know the risks.”

“I’m with Backpack Girl,” Junko jabbed her thumb in Kaede’s general direction. “We don’t have enough information. This promises us new information. So, let’s go.”

The rest of the group seemed to all agree, and slowly, they began to migrate towards the gymnasium. The group was led by Angie, who was still smiling cheerily, and trailed by a timid Toko, looking much more vulnerable than Nagito had ever seen her before.

When they reached the entryway to the gym, the group suddenly split into two. Most of the class charged ahead into the gym in search of information and answers, or maybe just because they were doing as Monokuma said, but there were a few who stalled in the entryway. Nagito found himself as a part of that later group due to Chihiro clinging to his arm.

“Chihiro?”

“Nagito… if it’s something bad, will you set it on fire?”

“Ah - my luck doesn’t really work that way, Chihiro…”

“But can you try?”

Nagito looked down at the petite programmer who had given him a second chance in the life before this one, and knew that he didn’t want whoever the Remnants were this time to be given a chance by someone they couldn’t thank the way he had.

“I can’t promise I can set it on fire, but… Maybe I could promise to keep you safe? As best as I can.”

Chihiro nodded and straightened up, clearly still scared but now more ready to face the unknown. He gave a sharp nod.

Looking around the entrance room, Nagito saw a couple more students that were hesitant to move forwards. Toko gnawed on her fingernails, taking one step towards the door before moving back again. Tsumugi was huddled in on herself over by the trophy case, muttering to herself about the lack of other students in the school.

After a moment of thought, Nagito let out a sigh. “Hey, Chihiro? Can you talk to Toko for a minute, get her to go inside? I’m going to talk to Tsumugi.”

Chihiro gave another sharp nod and walked over to the timid author, hiding the shaking of his hands by balling them into fists.

Last time, Hajime had taught him that hope was built out of relationships, and that was what could overcome any obstacle. Hope was still the most important thing of all to Nagito, and in this situation, he knew it would be needed more than perhaps ever before. And right now, the first step towards creating a hope strong enough to overcome this despair was to talk to Tsumugi.

“There aren’t any other students here. Why aren’t there any other students here?” Tsumugi’s eyes were wide with fear as they rapidly darted around.

“Tsumugi, right?” Nagito stood close, but not too close. He’d practiced this. He could do it.

Tsumugi jumped, letting out a little yelp.

“Ah! My apologies, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Nagito drew his hands up defensively.

Tsumugi stared at him for a moment, trying to slow her rapid breathing. After a moment and a deep breath, she spoke.

“No, I should be the one to apologize, I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings,” she said.

“That’s understandable, given the circumstances,” Nagito replied. “There’s a lot of uncertainty right now, and tensions are running high. It makes sense that it would overwhelm you.”

Tsumugi shifted slightly on her feet, and balled her fists in her skirt. “There’s no-one else here. Did you notice that? No other students. No teachers. No staff members. Just the fifteen of us. Maybe real life isn’t like the stories I love, but…”

“Life is more often like a story than it isn’t,” Nagito sighed. “Usually not in the trappings, but in the essence of it.”

Tsumugi looked down at her shoes, teeth worrying at her lower lip. “This feels like the lead-up to a reveal that sets off a chain reaction. And not the good kind.”

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean we can stay out here in the hall. If life is like a story, then you must imagine yourself as the protagonist. And when something like this happens in a story…”

“The lead always moves forwards with confidence, and faces the conflict,” Tsumugi straightened up slightly, and released her skirt from her clenched fists. “You’re right. I have to face this.”

With that, she whirled about and marched into the gym, with no small amount of haste. Nagito rather suspected she was trying to get it over with before she lost her confidence.

With that taken care of, Nagito turned towards where Chihiro and Toko had been talking, only to find that only Chihiro was standing there now, looking back at him.

“I was just… waiting for you,” Chihiro explained with a slightly sheepish grin, “I kinda wanted us to go in together…”

Nagito didn’t really know what to say or how to feel about that, so he just nodded quickly and pushed through the doors, Chihiro right on his heels.

The gym looked about the same as he remembered it looking when he watched the Killing School Life as a member of Ultimate Despair. The stage, the lighting, the logo, it was all familiar. But here and now, it was about to begin again, and this time he was not part of the audience, but a participant.

“An initial look at this room would suggest that this is meant to be an entrance ceremony, but something’s… off,” Junko narrowed her eyes and spun about, looking around for the data that would make things make sense.

“You get that feeling too?” Shuichi looked over at the Ultimate Data Analyst with a slight grin. Despite the two of them being nearly the same height, due to Shuichi’s slouched posture and Junko’s high-heeled boots, he ended up looking slightly upwards at her.

“Of course I do, my dear Watson,” Junko grabbed Shuichi and pulled him to her side. He looked mildly uncomfortable.

“... How come I’m Watson?” he said after a moment.

“Because between the two of us, I’m more eccentric,” Junko puffed up as she talked, then booped Shuichi on the nose before letting him go and returning to her currently fruitless search for clues.

Across the room, Kaede, Taka, and Twogami were holding a hushed conversation, which Keebo was watching intently without participating. Elsewhere still in the gym, Angie seemed to be giving a speech to Toko, Tsumugi, and Gonta about the glories of her god, Atua. Finally, Celeste seemed to be doing something similar to Nagito, merely scanning the room. Vaguely, he wondered what purpose the action served for her.

Generally speaking, it was a little too quiet. Nagito moved further into the gym, waiting for it to begin. And just as he had suspected, it started almost immediately.

“Hey there, howdy, hello! Is everyone here? Good! Then let’s get things _rolling!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh goddess above, that took longer than it should have, it part due to the massive pivot turn I had to make with the confirmation of Angie's VA. I hedged my bets and got it wrong, and as a result I have to re-plan... a lot. Oh well.
> 
> Anyway, please leave comments! Especially about whose FTEs you want to see. (Also theories.) Although I'm not sure who'll be available when as of yet (still dealing with that pivot turn), I am really excited about this.
> 
> And hey, if you wanna see the alt CGs without checking the fic constantly, or if you wanna see art relating to the odd numbered chapters, I have an instagram! My handle's the same, so it shouldn't be too hard to find me (I hope).


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